


The Dragon's Courtship

by Madriddler



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Harry, Bottom Neville, Bottom Ron, Courtship, Creature Fic, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominant Draco Malfoy, Light BDSM, M/M, Submissive Harry, Top Blaise, Top Draco Malfoy, Voldemort dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-07-23 12:23:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 107,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7463130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madriddler/pseuds/Madriddler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy wakes up on his seventeenth birthday to intense pain. Finding out that he has a Creature inheritance of an old and powerful species of Dragon, Draco must use his new powers to protect his mate Harry from dangerous enemies. But first, he must prove to Harry that he can be a Dragon worthy to call Harry Potter his. Meanwhile, Ron and Neville deal with the troubles that come with being Blaise's mates. Is Hogwarts ready for the two creatures? Or will the students of Hogwarts betray the boys to darker forces?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which an Inheritance is Given

The Dragon’s Courtship

Chapter 1

In Which An Inheritance is Given

A miraculous thing about a Creature Inheritance is that the inheritance itself can be, and often is, very fickle. The inheritance can, and often will, skip various generations until it has chosen one who it is considered “worthy.” The only exception of this rule would be the Veelas, whose blood runs through every descendant, showing in the female descendants, as well as the occasional male descendant. However, with that process, the veela blood dilutes as time wears on, there being more Half-Veelas and Quarter-Veelas than full fledged Veelas, them being a common, if still beautiful occurrences especially in France.

Another beautiful creature, if highly misunderstood, would be the wild dragons that occupy and roam about the Wizarding World. A very interesting thing about Dragons is that while there are many, many, many specious of Dragons, there is only one species of Dragons that share a common ancestor with the modern wizard. These dragons, which are extremely rare and only come at times of change, are said to hold immense power and show a perfect harmony between dragonkin and mankind. Dangerous and merciless to their enemies while gentle and caring to their sweet mates, the Dragon species known as Drogo is said to be the most powerful creature a normal wizard can inherit.

Draco Malfoy was in intense pain. It was his seventeenth birthday, and he woke up at two in the morning screaming in pain. There, in his bed wearing nothing but a pair of silk boxers, Draco Malfoy was drenched in sweat as he screamed. His back was arched into the air as he felt as if being hit by countless Crucios, the invisible knives sweeping and stabbing at every inch of his being. His five foot eleven body felt as if it was being pulled, squished, stretched, slashed, and burned simultaneously. His pale white skin was browning, his skinny, Seeker-trained body changing as the inheritance took place. He opened his mouth to scream, but instead an inhuman roar came out, silver fire escaping in embers as he opened his eyes in shock. His eyes shone, turning into a rich silver color as his ears seemed to become pointed. His body grew, muscles packing on top of muscles as his arms grew beefy, as well as his legs. His chest grew, muscles forming and a sick pack showing as his body muscles grew. With the muscles, Draco gained height, his five foot eleven frame stretching to six foot four.

He was aware of his new body for only a moment before he became to change again. His screams became demonic like as he rolled off his bed, landing on all fours. Horns sprouted in his head as his nose sunk into his face. His skin started to change, become more and more metallic in color as his face smoothed, before elongating again, his snout becoming pronounced as his head becomes more dragon-like. His silver eyes shone as he opened his mouth, sharp white teeth showing between wisps of white flame. His neck stretched out as the metallic scales sprouted, covering his body like a natural armor He grew to be twelve feet in length, muscles building on top of muscles as he transformed. Wings sprouted from the top of his back, white silverly frames holding dark blue leather that extended twice his height from his body. One wing crashed into a window and smashed it as he extended his wings fully. His hands and feet morphed, claws extending from them as his bones moved, crushing and breaking before healing again as his skeleton turns from human’s to dragon’s. A tail sprouted from his end, whipping spikes at the end of it. His new front claws curled and extended before slamming into the floor. Draco gave a loud roar, He took a couple of steps, getting used to his new body, before he gave another roar, silver fire erupting from his mouth.

With his transformation complete, Draco’s vision darkened, his room disappearing as a vision took over. A teenage boy, much smaller than him yet looking around his age. The boy had raven black hair and emerald eyes. Draco tried to remember who the boy was, but no name was coming to mind. Only the word “Mate” rang through his head as the boy became clearer and clearer. Glasses appeared over his mate’s eyes, and the boy was being dressed in Gryffindor robes as on his forehead, a lightning bolt scar appeared over his head. With his figure in his mind, next came a well of sadness and pain. Not from Draco, but from Mate. Mate had suffered, he had suffered so much that it made Draco furious. No one is allowed to make his Mate suffer, no one. Yet there it was, the pain and sadness overwhelming Draco’s body as he felt Mate. Death. Mate has lost people close to him, many people. Mate was surrounded by death… Draco’s natural Dominant wanted to scream. He wanted to break out of this house and find his submissive, comfort him, mold him, take what is his and lock him away from all the suffering of the world.

He barely noticed the door to the room slamming open as he just lost himself in the vision of his mate. There was a scream, but it wasn’t Mate so he didn’t care. He could practically see his mate’s environment appear around him. Mate was sleeping, lying on a bed just too small for him in a room that was only a quarter size of his own. The room was cluttered with Mate’s belongings, but also someone else’s. Posters of a Quidditch Team were plastered around the walls, athletes in bright orange robes flying about or simply grinning. There was another bed in the room, and in it was a tall red-headed boy of their age sleeping peacefully. Did they share a bedroom? Why so? Jealousy flooded through Draco as he looked around the room, glaring at the boy that dared to be near Mate. The walls and floor all seemed to be made of wood, and Draco could practically smelled the magic that held the home together.

He turned his attention back to Mate and watched him sleeping. If only he could touch him, he would seal their connection and make Mate his forever right then and there. As he stared at Mate, memories began to float towards his mind. Memories from his human self, his past self. He could see him and Mate interacting, arguing, fighting… it seemed that Mate and him had a rivalry. That obviously had to go as Mate submit to him. He wouldn’t have a mate who hates him. The first time they bond, Mate must submit willingly.

More and more memories returned. Him and Mate playing Quidditch, both of them Seekers… he wondered if he would be able to be Seeker with his new body, he wasn’t as scrawny as he once were. Every memory seemed to be of him and Mate on opposite sides, and with each memory it became apparent that he had work to make Mate his. But when he is his… Draco is certain that everything will taste all the sweeter.

As he remembered his last interaction with Mate, a name finally came to him. He gave a smirk, his pointed teeth showing as he looked down at his mate. A deep roaring chuckle erupted at the back of his throat as he stared at the Boy-Who-Lived. He opened his mouth and his voice came out like hissing growls as he said, “Harry Potter.”

He felt a spell bounce off of his body and the vision was gone. He looked around and roared at the witch and wizard who dared entered his room. “Stupefy!” the woman yelled, the Stunning Spell hitting him but for no effect.

“Where is my son?” she screamed again.

“Crucio!” the man yelled, the Unforgivable Curse hitting Draco. Draco felt little pain as he roared.

“Stop it!” he yelled, flames shooting from his mouth threateningly. “Stop hitting your son!”

That got the witch and wizard to stop. They stared confused at Draco. “What do you mean, beast?” the man asked.

“I am your son,” Draco growled. “You both had caused me to stop seeing my mate!”

The woman looked at the man, “Lucius, what is going on?”

“I do not know Narcissa… but I do believe our son had turned into a dragon,” Draco’s father said.

“Is that even possible?” Narcissa gasped. “I heard of creature inheritance but…”

“I do not know how this is happening, but for now we need to stop him before he destroys his entire room,” Draco’s father said. He looked at the dragon, and with the confidence and authority of a father, he said, “Draco, turn back into your original form. You are destroying your room.”

“After I go to Mate,” the dragon roared back. “Mate is mine!”

“Mate? Who is Mate?” Mr. Malfoy challenged.

“Mine!”

“Who is she?” Mr. Malfoy said again. “Tell us and we will find her—“

Draco lashed out at the mention of a female for his mate. Mate is not female, will never be a female. His spiked tail whipped against a wardrobe, destroying it in one fell swoop. “Her!? Mate is not a her! Mate is a boy, a strong boy!”

“Then who is he?” Mrs. Malfoy said.

“I will find him,” Draco roared. “Leave me! I need to rest before I look for him.”

“Leave you… I am your father,” Lucius Malfoy said strictly. “I will not be told what to do by you. Now turn back into your normal self before I am forced to take drastic measures.”

Draco growled and stepped towards his father and mother. Both witch and wizard stood their grounds, Lucius glaring at the dragon while Narcissa looking uncertain. “Draco… turn back,” she said softly. “You’re worrying me.”

Draco turned his attention from his glaring father to his mother and breathed through his nose, steam coming out. “Fine,” he said. He stepped away from his parents and remembered what his human self, his new self looked like. He remembered the muscles, the strength that he felt. The new physical Dominance that he had in that body, and he growled in pain as his bones began to shift again. The metallic scales turned back into his new tanned self. His tail retracted, his teeth turning back to normal, his ears turning back to their new pointed selves. Draco, now human, was on hands and knees and couldn’t help but give a boyish smirk when he saw the new length and width of his cock. He is going to have so much fun with Harry Potter’s ass and mouth with that.

Before he stood up, he reached for a nearby blanket and wrapped it around his waist as he stood, noticing that he finally was now taller than his father and mother. He crossed his arms around his massive chest and looked at them. “Better?” he asked.

“Err, yes,” Draco’s mother said. “Draco… what happened to you?”

“I don’t know,” Draco said. “I woke up screaming, and now I have a new body, I can turn into a dragon, and I have a Mate who I need to see.”

“Yes, well I suppose we must look into this,” Lucius Malfoy said. “See if this is permanent, or even what it is called. The only creature inheritance I know of are of Veelas, and their blood dilutes through generations. This cannot be possible, though. You a dragon where our ancestors weren’t.”

Draco shrugged. He loved his new body and ability to transform. It made him feel more dominant then he already was, and the more dominance and power he had, the better he generally felt. And he wanted to use all that dominance and power on a very special Harry Potter. “There is no way I am reversing this. I love the sensation I am feeling. I feel I could easily kill the Dark Lord if he wasn’t already dead!”

“Draco,” Lucius said warningly. Draco turned and walked towards his bed, picking up his shredded clothes. He looked at the wardrobe and frowned. He took his wand and waved it, saying “ _Reparo!_ ” The splinters and wood of the old wardrobe moved by themselves as they easily fixed themselves back to where they belonged. Draco opened the wardrobe and pulled out a pair of silk boxers. He turned his back to his parents and wiggled to put the boxers on under the sheet. It was a bit of a tight fit, Draco noticed that his new enormous bulge was very noticeable, so for his family’s sake he kept the sheet on as he turned to his parents.

“Tomorrow, I think I will need to shop for new clothes,” he said, more to himself then to his parents. “Then, after that, I may help you find out what just happened to me. But finding my mate will take priority. I do not want to wait for school year to see him.”

His parents exchanged a look, Draco’s mother worried while his father looked shocked and angry that his son would dare tell him what to do. “Okay then,” his mother said. “Since you are fine… I will see you in the morning. Good night Draco, we love you.”

“I love you too,” Draco said to his mother. “Good night.”

When his parents closed the door Draco let the sheet drop, revealing his tight boxers and smirked. “Just you wait Harry, I’m going to make sure that you’ll be singing my name. Soon enough, my precious mate.”

Harry Potter woke up feeling hot. Visions of white wisps of fire swam in his head as he opened his eyes. Sweat covered his forehead as he felt a most painful erection. Embarrassed, he turned towards Ron and sighed in relief to see his best friend was still sleeping. He turned his attention back to his standing cock, making a small perfect tent in his sheet and pajama pants, and closed his eyes, listing things that were entirely disgusting and not sexy. His thoughts went to pets, cats, women, Ginny, homework, a three scroll long Potions essay that was due in a weak. The last once made Harry grimace, but it had worked as his cock softened to a less noticeable and more comfortable length.

He didn’t know why, but he felt as if someone, or something, was watching him as he slept. He looked back at his best friend and saw that Ron was deep asleep. “It couldn’t have been Ron,” he muttered to himself. He looked outside the window of the bedroom and saw that the sun was just starting to rise above the Burrow. Harry got to the Burrow just two days ago. Professor Dumbledore had approached him at Private Drive and requested that Harry accompanied him as he interviewed an old colleague. The old colleague was an enormous man with a huge walrus mustache named Horace Slughorn. The man seemed to have taught his mother, and both Dumbledore and Slughorn told him about a thing called the “Slug Club.”

“He would definitely want the savior of the Wizarding World as part of his Slug Club,” Dumbledore warned Harry before they entered Slughorn’s home. And he was right, Slughorn took to him immediately and Harry could have sensed that his presence was a huge factor with Slughorn rejoining the school staff.

Pleased with Harry’s help, Dumbledore sent him to spend the rest of the summer with the Weasleys at the Burrow, where both were sure and hoping that the Daily Prophet would not bother him.

He looked over at Ron and watched as his friend tossed and turned in his sleep. Ron seemed to be having a rather enjoyable dream, and Harry wondered which boy Ron was dreaming about. Shaking his curiosity out of his head, Harry decided to clean himself and get dressed for the day. He walked down to the kitchen to find Bill Weasley with his fiancé Fleur, talking in hushed tones. “—and there was that goblin who wanted to take the gold even though it was the wizard’s property. Ohh, morning Harry.”

Harry nodded morning, still feeling strange about how he had woken up. He had never had such a power erection before, he was both curious and worried of the cause. Though, there was no way he could ever breathe a word about it to Bill, or any of the Weasleys.

“What were you two talking about?” Harry yawned as he sat down next to Bill Weasley. “I was telling Fleur about something I’ve saw working with Gringotts,” Bill said.

Fleur nodded and said, “And before zat, I was telling Bill about mates.”

“Mates?” Harry asked confused. For some odd reason, that word seemed familiar to Harry. As if he was called that in a dream he couldn’t for the life of him remember.

“Yes, mates,” Fleur nodded. “I was telling Bill how with mates, there are also two. The Dominant and the submissive, though of course we Veelas are always dominant,” she chuckled.

“Oh,” Harry said, looking down at the table as his cheeks reddening as his mind went to lewd thoughts. He did not want to think about Bill and Fleur doing… that!

“Ugh! What is it with you men and naughty thoughts!?” Fleur exclaimed. “The dominance and submissiveness is much more than whatever your brains are thinking! Honestly.”

“I thought the same as well, Harry,” Bill offered, his cheeks slightly red as he noticed Harry’s embarrassment.

“It is not all about sex ‘arry,” Fleur said. “It is about every part of the relationship! We are equals but the Dominant will always look out for the submissive.”

“And umm… the Mates thing?” Harry asked, trying to steer the conversation away from sex and save his flustered face.

“For me and y family, it is simply who we fall in love with,” Fleur said. “Only full Veelas and other creatues have mates.”

“What you mean other creatures?” Harry asked.

“She means that there are more species like the Veela,” Bill said. “Though, don’t ask us for what they are.”

“Why?”

“We don’t know,” Fleur shrugged.

Mrs. Weasley took that moment to enter the kitchen and Fleur got up immediately and insisted that she would help Mrs. Weasley with the cooking. Harry turned his attention away from the two and instead tried to remember the reason of his unusual waking. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that the word “Mate” was involved, though he could not for the life of him remember the consequences of that word being used. All he remembered was a deep voice hissing his name and “Mate” as white wisps of fire lick and caress every inch of his body. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to feel those wisps again, the warm flames felt good against his skin. It felt as if he was being devoured by the flames, and he loved every second of it.

**A/N: READ THIS! This fic EARNS it’s rating. I am warning you now. There will be graphic scenes that will depict relationships with Dominant/submissive undertones, overtones, and any other tones you can think of. BDSM will be addressed and played with, along with the general plot this story is about. While this isn’t an excuse for porn, there will be porn. If wanted, I will include warnings for those of you wanting to skip them. And yes, in the future there will be Dragon!Draco and human Harry sex, as well as any other scenes my perverted mind can think of.**


	2. Explanations are Given

Chapter 2

Explanations Are Given

Draco Malfoy woke up the next morning feeling odd. He gave a yawn and pulled the sheet covering his body off, only to gasp in shock. What happened last night, whatever it was, was definitely not a dream. His body was still a tall and broad six foot four, muscles packed onto each other making him look older and dominant. Everything seemed heavier, stronger, weirder. He walked up to a mirror and gave a gasp of horror when he noticed that his ears were still pointed, and his eyes pure silver. “What is going on…” he said to himself and he stared into the mirror. “This cannot be happening to me. …”

He remembered his vision and groaned when his cock started hardening at the thought of the raven-haired teen. Draco Malfoy knew since he was thirteen that he was gay, it all started with him walking in on the former Gryffindor Quidditch Team captain snogging the late Hufflepuff Seeker. It was a very hot sight for him, but still that did not explain his current situation. He took a deep breath and looked at the mirror again. His face was the same, same aristocratic features, same shade of platinum blonde hair, same eyes though a deeper color… the only noticeable difference on his face is that his ears were now pointed.

He slowly brought a hand to them and his fingers gazed across the points. Flesh met flesh and a weird shiver went down Draco’s spine. “I’m a dragon…” he said to himself. “I’m a dragon… and I have a mate.”

His mind went back to the raven-haired boy and he groaned in irritation. “Of course it’s Harry frickin Potter,” he said to himself. He will not deny the fact that the Gryffindor is cute, if not sexy, though the possibility of him and Harry being together seems impossible given their rivalry. Though, Draco wouldn’t mind knocking Potter down a leg or so if it’ll get him his mate’s submission. He could practically see the little Gryffindor lying naked in front of him, a small glare escaping a face of submission as Draco stood over him. His cock started to harden at the thought and Draco quickly turned his thoughts to other things, breathing a sigh of relief as his enormous dick softened to a more manageable size.

He walked to his wardrobe and frowned when he opened them. All of his suits, robes, and dressings were fitted perfectly to fit his five foot eleven, slim frame. But now with his more beefy, physically fit body there was no way his clothes would fit as perfectly as they once did. Until he went out to Diagon Alley and buy more clothing later that day, Draco decided to do what he believed was a crime and took his wand from the nightstand, pointed it at one of his older clothing, and muttered “ _Engorgio!_ ”

The robes swelled and lengthened until it was big enough to fit his frame. He did the same to a pair of silk boxers, pants, and his shoes and got dressed. He looked in the mirror and frowned. While to other wizards, he would look perfectly fine, if not handsome, to Draco his appearance was barely acceptable in the clothing. “I will go after breakfast,” he decided as he looked in the mirror.

Draco made sure he had everything, and that everything was in it’s place, before walking out of his room and towards the small dining room his family uses for everyday use. He opened the door and barely held his surprise to see that they had a guest at dinner. He just raised an eyebrow at Yaxley, the gentlemen Death Eater sitting perfectly content across from his father. “Ah Draco, good morning,” Yaxley said when he looked up. “I see that what your parents say is true.”

“Yes, though I do not know what it is, Yaxley,” Draco said a bit coldly as he sat down at the breakfast table. He snapped for an elf and watched silently as a house-elf appeared, meeped at his new presence, and quickly filled his empty plate with food.

“Then we are all unaware,” Yaxley continued, “though from what Lucius says is true, you turn into a… well, a dragon.”

Draco nodded. “Yes, a dragon,” he said, cutting his piece of sausage and eating a small piece. “Though, do not think that you now know a supply of dragon scales,” he added.

Yaxley chuckled and said, “I would never dream taking scales from my colleague’s son. Though it is a bit strange, you turning into a dragon. I thought your family’s blood was the purist of them all.”

“We are,” Lucius said. “Draco’s inheritance can only be a show to how strong and pure our blood is.”

“Of course,” Yaxley nodded.” Although there will be those who doubt it. Nevertheless, this is an interesting development.” He turned his attention towards Draco, as if looking him over and comparing his present self to his previous. “At least now, there can be no mistake between you and your father Draco,” he said. “You look nothing like your father when he was your age.”

“Sir,” Draco said, slightly confused. He looked between his father and guest.

“Nothing Draco, just musing on days gone,” Yaxley said, brushing away Draco’s confused look. Draco just stared at him for awhile longer before turning his attention back to his breakfast. He took a bite of his bacon and frowned.

Draco snapped his fingers and the same house-elf appeared. “Make this rarer,” he snapped giving the small plate of bacon to the elf. The elf trembled in fear, scared that it had gotten a Malfoy’s breakfast wrong and disappeared quickly.

“He now has a mate apparently,” Narcissa interjected, sensing a cold atmosphere from Draco. Draco looked up at her and looked at their guest. Yaxley looked at Draco interested. “Really? And who is this girl?”

Draco glared at their guest, insulted that he would call Harry Potter a girl. There is no way Draco could envision Harry Potter as a girl. In fact that thought of a female version of Harry Potter was both incredibly stupid and very insulting to Draco. There is no way that Harry would, under any circumstances become a girl. The thought sickened Draco to his stomach, as it should be.

“ _He_ is not a girl,” Draco growled out, emphasizing the gender. Yaxley looked at Draco, shocked. Speechless, he turned towards Narcissa and Lucius. Narcissa nodded in agreement as she turned her attention to her husband. Lucius looked at Draco and tried to hid a look of disappointment as he nodded shortly.

“Huh,” Yaxley said, not showing his reactions or emotions on the matter. “Then, who is this… boy?”

“Someone that I will not tell you,” Draco said looking at Yaxley. “He is mine and I will not reveal his identity to those not in my family.”

“Then tell me,” Lucius said shortly. “Who is he?”

Draco turned his attention to his father and thought for a moment. “I will when I find him,” he told his father and mother.

“You obviously know his name, so why not just tell me and your mother?” Lucius asked.

“Lucius, if he doesn’t want to tell us right now,” Narcissa began.

“I will tell you when I find him,” Draco repeated. “He will not accept me immediately.”

“Why not?” Narcissa asked, concerned.

“Because mother, we have a history,” Draco said earnestly. “Besides,” he shrugged, “I don’t want him to accept me immediately. It’s not as fun when I don’t have to work for it.”

The house-elf took that moment to reappear with Draco’s new plate of bacon. Draco took a piece of bacon from the plate and bit into it, smiling at the taste. “Good,” he said. The house-elf placed the plate in front of Draco and disappeared again. Draco took a couple of pieces of bacon and ate them slowly and he looked around the table, wondering why they were all staring at him.

He finished his breakfast in silence as the three adults turned to talking to one another. He only half-listened as his father and Yaxley talked about past times. Their glories and conquests during the wars, their failures, and the ultimate downfall of the Dark Lord. All stories Draco have heard before, and all stories Draco was bored of.

When he was finished, he stood up as the house-elves appeared again and took his plates away. He turned to look at the adults and said, “I’m going to Diagon Alley to buy new clothes. I’ll be back when I’m done.”

“Alright Draco,” Narcissa said. “Do you need any help?”

“No thank you mother,” Draco said. He turned to look at Yaxley and said, “It was nice seeing you Yaxley.”

“Same to you Draco,” Yaxley said. “And congratulations on the inheritance. I hope that we will all become more knowledgeable to what happened.”

“See you father,” Draco said, nodding his head towards his father. Lucius just gave him a sharp look and waved him goodbye.

Draco left the small dining room and headed towards a small corner room in the manor, which his family used only to Floo to other places. The room held only a large fireplace, and a small armchair with a side table that held a container that was always filled with floo powder. Draco strolled into the room and closed the door behind him. He took a fist full of floo powder and threw it into the empty fireplace. Green flames erupted from the ashes and Draco said “Diagon Alley” as he stepped through the flames.

He closed his eyes as he felt the familiar sensation of traveling through the Floo network. He felt his feet hitting solid ground and stepped out into the Leaky Cauldron. He ignored Tom the barkeep as he walked through the empty bar, strolling towards the back of the bar where the entrance of Diagon Alley lies. He took out his wand, tapped the brick wall, and entered the small archway that appeared. Diagon Alley looked as lively as ever, the cramp, bursting street still celebrating the day his mate had defeated Voldemort.

Draco still remembered how he felt when he heard the news that Voldemort was gone: relieved. He was in the Slytherin common room nursing his wounds that female Weasley gave him when their group escaped from Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad, which was another thing he had to apologize for, when he heard that Harry Potter had apparently defeated the Dark Lord in the Ministry of Magic. He remembered he was extremely jealous of Potter, once again he was on everyone’s mind and he hated that Harry’s attention was diverted from him.

The seventeen year old scoffed at himself, he supposed now it all made sense with his slight obsession with Harry Potter. It’s only fitting for the small Gryffindor to be his mate. It must have been fate that gave him that severe case of dragon pox when he was eleven, forcing him to wait until he was twelve to attend Hogwarts.

Draco made his way towards Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions and opened the door. There was a small chime as Draco walked in, the door closing behind him. “Come in, come in!” Madam Malkin’s voice yelled out from the back. “Stand on the small platform! And I’ll be there in a bit.”

Draco moved to stand on the small raised platform near a window and looked out it. He watched as witches and wizards walked past the clothes shop, seemingly talking merrily as they do their shopping. Draco saw and noticed several Hogwarts students doing their school shopping with their families.

“Ah, you must be new,” Madam Malkin said as she walked towards Draco. “So what is it you want?”

“New robes,” Draco said. “I had a bit of a growth spurt.”

“Oh! Mr. Malfoy, I did not recognize you,” Madam Malkin said, taking out her wand. A tape measure sprang to life and started to measure Draco as Madam Malkin waved her wand. The tape measure did its job as Madam Malkin asked Draco about how he wanted his robes and shirts prepared.

“Just as my family always get it,” Draco said as the tape measure wrapped around his waist. “I’ll need several new robes and cloaks for Hogwarts, a few dress robes, as well as shirts and trousers.”

“Very well Mr. Malfoy,” Madam Malkin said. “Wait here,” she ordered as she went to the back to the shop. Draco did as the door opened again. Draco looked to see Blaise Zabini walking inside the shop. The Slytherin looked different to Draco, he too was taller, looking around six foot even. His skin looked intoxicating, Draco felt an odd urge to touch Blaise’s chocolate skin as Zabini smiled at him. Blaise was muscular as well, but Draco noticed with a cocky smirk not as muscular as he was. Instead, Blaise looked toned, as if every inch of him was made for seduction. Draco felt a small heat rising within him, his soft cock hardening slowly.

“Hello Draco, nice ears,” Blaise purred as he stood next to Draco. “So you got a creature inheritance as well?”

“How did you know?” Draco asked, shocked.

Blaise smiled at Draco and said, “Didn’t you notice? Your heat rising, cheeks flustering, and that large bulge growing?” Draco’s cheeks flustered further as he tried to hid his now noticeable bulge. Blaise chuckled and said, “Don’t worry about it, it’s only a natural response to sexy creatures like me. I’ll tell you all about it after this. But for now… I think I’ll spare you.”

And immediately, Draco felt the strange heat leaving his body, his fluster slipping away from his cheeks and his cock shrinking to a more manageable size. Madam Malkin walked back to the front with a handful of robes. “Try these on while I deal with him,” she told Draco.

Draco nodded and moved to the back of the shop to try on the robes. He smiled in the mirror to see that everything fitted him perfectly, the shirts accenting and showing his new muscles, hugging and holding onto his body in the right places. When he was done trying them on, he decided to wear one of the robes and shirt and trousers, and went to the front to pay. Afterwards he watched as Blaise was fitted and noticed that Madam Malkin seemed to be unaffected to whatever Zabini had done to him. Blaise noticed his staring and smirked at Draco, giving him a wink. Zabini gathered his new robes, paid, and left the shop with Draco. “So, shall we go get an early lunch and I’ll explain some things?” Blaise asked.

“Sure,” Draco said. “But afterwards I need to head to Twilfitt and Tatting’s. While Madam Malkin’s robes are good. They are a bit too… common for mother’s taste.” Blaise just nodded and chuckled. They walked down the streets and Draco couldn’t notice that as they walked, they were getting looks. There were the normal looks from witches of all ages looking around at their physical beauty, but Draco also noticed that several wizards, all of whom Draco would call moderate to somewhat attractive, were giving Blaise a dazed look that Draco had given his friend before. This only made Draco even more curious as they continued to walk. “So, when will you explain?” he asked.

“As soon as you tell me how you’ve obtained a very nice bubble butt,” Blaise chuckled. Draco scowled at him as they turned to a small restaurant and entered. Their waiter was a small wizard who looked to be in his early twenties. He smiled and escorted Blaise and Draco to a small table in the back of the restaurant. Two menus followed them, hovering in midair following the wizard’s wand. Again, Draco noticed that the wizard was staring at Blaise, his cheeks flushed and eyes cloudy as he looked up at Blaise.

“Just look over the menus and I will be back when you are ready, sirs,” the wizard said.

“Thank you,” Blaise smiled. The wizard left and Draco looked at Blaise. “What exactly is going on?” he asked.

“Simple,” Blaise chuckled. “I’m an Incubus. From my mother. I finally got my inheritance on my sixteenth birthday.”

“An… incubus,” Draco said.

“Yes, a very sexy, very seductive incubus,” Blaise smiled.

A perverted, if interesting creature, the incubus will cause hormones of people they find sexuality attractive skyrocket when left unmated. The effect of the incubus causes the victim’s minds to turn foggy as lewd thoughts and feelings come into their minds temporarily, their bodies reacting as if they are sexuality aroused, usually shown by flustered cheeks and shortness of breath. Now, a very known fact about the incubus is that the power of their seductive charms is based on multiple factors such as the spacing between the incubus and their unknowing target, the target’s sexuality, and the physical attraction the Incubus has towards the target. If all or some of these criteria are met, then the target will feel a growing need to get close to the incubus, if not touch him. If none are met, then the person only suffers either foggy thoughts or remains unaffected. To stop these uncontrolled actions, the Incubus needs to be grounded by his two mates.

“So you see, until I find my two beloved mates, I can’t help but affect men’s thoughts,” Blaise chuckled. “Like that waiter, did you see the way he stared at me? Why, if I wanted to, I think I can have him begging for a kiss.”

“Never knew you to be such a courtesan Zabini,” Draco said, looking at his friend. Blaise laughed and shook his head.

“It’s not like that, if I concentrate and focus I can stop the desires I naturally emit. It’s how I’ve cleared your head in Madam Malkin’s,” Blaise said.

“I see,” Draco nodded. “Never do that again. I’ve thought of things that I would never do to you.”

“But instead to your mate,” Blaise smirked. “Come on, I’ve spilled my inheritance, and now you tell me yours.”

“I will Zabini, but first tell me why you’ve got yours at sixteen while this one sprang to me on my seventeenth birthday,” Draco said.

“If I can guess,” Blaise said, “it’s because I always knew I’m an incubus. It was fairly obvious with who my mother is. That and my inheritance is a generational inheritance. From ancestor to ancestor to ancestor. You however… just what are you?”

“Apparently,” Draco said bluntly, “a dragon.”

“Really?” Blaise gasped, impressed. “That’s almost impossible Draco! To have a dragon inheritance.”

“It is?” Draco asked, “my family and I are actually a little confused on that front.”

“I can see why,” Blaise said. The waiter came back and they both gave their orders. Draco and Blaise waited until the waiter was gone to continue. “Where was I? Oh yeah, Draco, having a dragon inheritance is really rare, I believe it’s actually the rarest one. I don’t even know the last time this has ever happened.”

“Really?”

“Yes, inheritances usually are either generational or every other. But this… this is just amazing,” Blaise said. A weird smile went on his face as he talked about the inheritances. “I just love learning about this,” he said. “As soon as I learned that I was an incubus, I just wanted to learn more about various inheritances! Did you know that all inheritances are dominant? Like both a dominant gene that only shows in guys like us, and Dominant as in we’re the dominant to our mates. There’s nothing recessive or submissive about us.”

Draco chuckled at his friend’s outburst. He had never seen this side of Blaise. “So you’re telling us that our mates will always be human?”

“Of course,” Blaise nodded. He looked at Draco and gave a small smirk. “So, Draco before we talk more about our creatures inheritances, I have something I want to ask you.”

“You want to know who my mate is, don’t you?” Draco smirked. Blaise nodded and looked at Draco expectedly. Draco chuckled to himself at the curious, needy look his friend had, as if what Draco was about to say will be the most important piece of information he will hear all day. Of course it is, Draco is about to talk about his mate. Harry Potter will be and always is, the most important thing to Draco any day.

“My mate is Harry Potter,” Draco said.

Blaise stared at him for a moment. His curious look turning quickly into surprise, then realization. Draco waited patiently as his friend thought of a response. Their lunches hovered over to their tables, landing neatly in front of them as Blaise opened his mouth. “I knew it,” he said. “I just knew it. You and Potter? You were both meant for each other I swear, the ways you two always fought with each other. So what are you going to do?”

“Claim him of course,” Draco said. “He is my submissive. It’s going to be hard, but I plan on courting him.”

Blaise nodded and took a bite of his lunch. “Same, with both of mine.”

“Two? I didn’t know you were that greedy Zabini,” Draco smirked.

“It’s either I find both of my mates and play with them for the rest of our lives, or I’ll make every hot gay wizard around us as horny as a teenager,” Blaise said.

Draco laughed at that as he began eating his lunch. When he finished chewing and swallowing, he said, “So you now know that Harry is mine. So who are yours?”

“Why, only Harry’s best friend Ronald Weasley, and the sweet Herbalist Neville Longbottom,” Blaise said. “Both are destined to become my playful boys. There’s so much I’m thinking of teaching them. …”

“Can you now just not think about sex Zabini?” Draco asked.

Blaise chuckled, “As if you aren’t thinking about teaching Harry a thing or two.”

“Of course,” Draco chuckled. “I have an assortment of toys for Harry to try. But I am also thinking about both the little and big things for Harry. Such as our day-to-day activities and the eventual day when he becomes a Malfoy.”

“Thinking about marriage already?” Blaise chuckled.

“It’s inevitable,” Draco said. “When I say that Harry Potter will be mine, I mean that Harry Potter will be mine in every single way possible.”

“Did you already buy the ring?” Blaise laughed.

Draco chuckled, but a blush appeared on his cheeks. “Of course not,” he said. “That would just be plain weird, wouldn’t it?”

Blaise chuckled.

“And what of you? You planning of making Weasley and Longbottom Zabinis?” Draco asked.

“Well, they will be Zabini’s,” Blaise said. “But who knows, Ronald Zabini and Neville Zabini sounds pretty nice to me. …Wait, why are we talking about this? We’re only in our sixth year!?”

“Because unlike you Zabini, I plan for the long term,” Draco said. “And that includes marrying him and getting him pregnant with my… our children.”

“Pregnant?” Blaise laughed. “Draco you’re still a teenager, save pregnancies for when you’re thirty.”

“I can’t,” Draco said. “It’s like this weird want inside me. I just want to claim Potter and… and…”

“And?”

“Make love with him over and over until he becomes pregnant,” Draco said.

“Right, well… let’s turn this back to inheritances? Shall we?” Blaise said, Draco noticing that his friend’s face was red with flush.

“Alright,” Draco said. “So what is it you want to talk about?”

“Where were we?” Blaise asked.

“Well… I’m guessing that you also have a um… other form as well?” Draco asked.

“Yeah, I do,” Blaise said. “All pure-blooded creatures do. I have one, and from your ears, so do you.”

“Then what? Does that mean I’m not a pure-blood wizard?” Draco asked.

“You are, and I’m one too! Don’t worry we’re not immediately half-bloods,” Blaise said. “It’s a bit complicated… from what I understand, the Incubus blood in me and the Drogo blood in you helps strength our magic and has been in our family for so long that it was considered a source of our magic.”

“I think I understand,” Draco said. “But… I don’t think I’ll worry about it. I have more important things to consider.”

“Like?”

“How are we going to get our mates?” Draco said. “Least we forget, all our mates are in Gryffindor, and we are Slytherins. Their entire house is going to be suspicious of us.”

“Didn’t think of that,” Blaise said. He shrugged and said, “They’re our mates. I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

“Well, whatever it is, I know what I have to do first,” Draco said.

“Which is?”

“Apologize for being a prat to him all these years,” Draco said. “Especially last year where I was part of that woman’s squad.”

“Oh yeah… that,” Blaise said. He looked out the window of the small restaurant and said, “You know, I still can’t believe that _he_ is gone.”

“Tell me about it, Yaxley was at my manor this morning as an unexpected guest for breakfast,” Draco said. “He and father spent most of the morning talking about their experiences as Death Eaters. It was truly sickening. I’m glad Harry killed him.”

“Hell of a stunner,” Blaise said. “Did you read the paper the day after? A Stunner right at his heart! Didn’t know he had one.”

“I just hope Harry’s okay,” Draco said. “I hope he doesn’t have like guilt or anything.”

“Even if he does, I’m sure you’ll take care of it,” Blaise chuckled. Draco agreed and they spent the rest of their lunch talking about nonsense, going over their expectations for Hogwarts and plans to getting their mates to trust them. When they were done with their lunch, Draco paid and the two left to continue their shopping. They both went to Twilfitt and Tatting’s, and Draco completed replacing his wardrobe, making sure that every single article of clothing fitted him perfectly, showing off the best assets of his new body. He smirked at his reflection, noting that Harry Potter had no chance resisting him.

When he returned to Malfoy Manor, he was relieved to see that Yaxley wasn’t there. It seemed that his father and his guest left for the Ministry to do whatever it is that they do. Draco couldn’t care less as he immediately went to his room, and towards his wardrobe. He opened it and spend the rest of the day cleaning it out, feeling as if as he threw away his old clothes, he was throwing away his old life. The life of an arrogant boy who had an undeserved air of superiority that he used to bully people. And instead, with his new clothes, he begins his life as a Drogo, a Dragon that, while he still doesn’t fully understand how and why he inherited it, he will use his new powers and dominance to protect his Harry Potter, take responsibilities that he had been avoiding, and make up for past mistakes.


	3. Diagon Alley is Visited

Chapter 3

Diagon Alley is Visited

Harry Potter found himself sitting at the table in the kitchen of the Burrow feeling very anxious. Today was the day that their O.W.L. results are coming. Harry looked over at Ron and Hermione, who were both looking equally nervous and terrified. Hermione was muttering to herself as Ron and Harry kept quiet, too busy being scared to speak.

For the past few days, Harry couldn’t help but think about dragons. It was a very weird thing for him, as he hadn’t thought or even imagined dragons since the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament. He even looked for that miniature Hungarian Horntail, but could not have found it. Harry wondered why his thoughts always in some way returned to dragons, but he could find one source of it all: that weird dream a few days ago.

Ever since that dream, and his weird talk with Bill and Fleur, dragons and other activities were on his mind, and sometimes if he thinks hard enough, Harry could remember silver eyes.

“I know I messed up Ancient Runes,” Hermione muttered feverishly, “I definitely made at least one serious mistranslation. And the Defense Against the Dark Arts practical was no good at all. I thought Transfiguration went all right at the time, but looking back—“

“Hermione, will you shut up, you’re not the only one who’s nervous!” Ron barked. “And when you’ve got your eleven ‘Outstanding’ O.W.L.s …”

“Don’t, don’t, don’t!” Hermione said, flapping her hands hysterically. “I know I’ve failed everything!”

Harry wondered what happened if they failed the O.W.L.s, and Hermione told him that they would have to talk to Professor McGonagall. Harry nodded as his thoughts returned strangely to dragons and silver eyes as Fleur went on about her school. His mind started going down the male dragon’s body when Hermione screamed, pointing at the window. Three black specks were clearly visible in the sky, growing larger all the time.

The owls flew directly at the Burrow, and Mrs. Weasley squeezed towards the window to open it. The owls soared through it and land on the table in a neat line. All three of them lifted their right legs.

Harry moved forward. The letter addressed to him was tied to the leg of the owl in the middle. He untied it with fumbling fingers as Ron and Hermione untied their letters. Nobody in the kitchen spoke as the three detached their envelopes and opened them.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It was all right: He had always known that he would fail Divination, not that he cared for the subject at all, and he didn’t care for History of Magic so it did not matter to him that he got a Dreadful. Though, he had gotten Exceeds Expectations on the rest, except for Defense Against the Dark Arts, which he naturally got an “Outstanding.”

He traded letters with Ron and looked at his friend’s. Ron too had an Outstanding with Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he had less general O.W.L.s than Harry. “We’re all N.E.W.T. students now!” Ron grinned. “Mum, are there any more sausages?”

Harry looked back down at his results. They were as good as he could have hoped for. He felt one tiny twinge of regret. …This was the end of his ambition to become an Auror. He had not secured the required “Outstanding” needed for Snape’s Potions grade. He had known all along that he wouldn’t, but still he felt a sinking in his stomach as he looked again at that small black E.

At the end of breakfast, Harry and Ron returned to their room and Ron looked at Harry. “Must be nice not having to worry about our scores, yeah?” Ron said.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “Still, looks like I’ll won’t be becoming an Auror. Snape gave me an E.”

“Damn bastard,” Ron said. He looked at Harry and blushed. “Hey Harry… can I tell you something?”

“Sure, anything Ron,” Harry said.

Ron’s face was flustered, the same color as his hair as he looked at Harry. He looked like he was debating on saying something. “I err… since we’re sleeping in the same room… I’ve been err having urges, you know? More than usual…”

Harry looked at Ron confused for a moment before blushing. “Umm okay…”

“No, no, no,” Ron said quickly. “It’s just that—I don’t know why I’m like this! And I’ve been err having these weird dreams also.”

“Dreams?” Harry asked, wondering if Ron was having similar dreams as he does. “What type of dreams?”

“Don’t judge, okay?” Ron said. Harry nodded. “I’ve dreamt that I’ve been with two guys, though it was clear who was the dominant one. … I’ve felt hot, horny, needed and very relaxed. The hugest guy had his… he was fucking me with his cock while my cock was buried in the third one. We were all moaning and when I woke up… I was covered in my own cum.”

“I didn’t see anything,” Harry said. Ron blushed and said, “I’ve made sure to clean it up before you wake up.” Harry nodded, his cheeks warm. “And even with those dreams… I still feel like I need more, you know? Right now… right now, I’m half-hard,” Ron whispered.

Harry’s eyes couldn’t help but look down and noticed the growing bulge in Ron’s pants. Harry blushed and looked at him. “I’ve umm been having dreams too, but they don’t have effects like that.”

“What they about?” Ron asked.

“Dragons,” Harry said. “Or a dragon. It’s weird. There was fire, but it didn’t hurt me. It was touching me, licking me but it didn’t feel too hot, it was warm… like a huge body holding me warm. And I was also naked… and hard.”

Ron nodded, a look of relief to see that he wasn’t the only one having weird dreams. “Any ideas why we’re having these dreams?”

“No idea,” Harry said frowning. “Though I never had any dreams like that before.”

“Me neither,” Ron said. They both frowned at each other, both trying to think of an understandable reason of their explicit and unusual dreams. They both were silent as they thought, Harry’s mind keep going back to the silver eyes.

He kept thinking of the strange dreams as he stayed at the Burrow’s confines over the next few weeks. He spent most of his days playing two-a-side Quidditch in the Weasleys’ orchard and his evenings eating triple helpings of everything Mrs. Weasley put in front of him. His nights were spent with the same dream, with each night having more and more details revealed to him. Last night, Harry had the most surreal dream yet.

Again he felt the strong, dominant presence holding him, the silver flames surrounding and touching his flustered naked body. Then, he felt something drag across his body, and looked down to see a strong clawed hand. He gasped and looked back. The strong presence enwrapping him turned to a physical form, his body strong and muscular as the clawed hand transformed into a human hand, which still held Harry close to his chest. Harry gasped and moaned. He immediately relaxed into the touch, his eyes closing as he rested his head against the broad chest of his mysterious boy. The boy chuckled, his voice distorted. “You’re so beautiful Harry,” he said.

“Who are you?” Harry moaned. He looked down and watched as the boy started to rub his nipples. The boy chuckled and began nibbling his ear. “I’m your mate,” he whispered. “Your Dominant.”

“W-What?”

“Your Dominant Harry,” the boy said, his tipped fingers flicking Harry’s nipples before dragging them down Harry’s torso, leaving little scratches as they scrapped, sending multiple shivers of pleasures down Harry’s spine. “Your mate, your Lover,” the boy continued. “Your protector… your one and only. I am yours Harry, as much as you are mine.”

“Yours?” Harry moaned.

“Yes Harry. You belong… to me,” the boy said, his hands grabbing Harry’s erect cock. Harry gave a slow long moan as the boy squeezed and tugged Harry’s cock. “This is mine Harry, remember that.”

“A-ahh Who are you?” he moaned again.

“You will find out,” the boy said. “But for now… I want to tell you something.”

“What is it?” Harry asked. The boy gave another squeeze and jerk. “Even though I have been a jerk, I will make it up to you. Every. Single. Day.” With each word, the boy tugged Harry’s cock, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. “I will prove to you that I am a worthy mate. And when I can finally touch you in person, I will have you begging for my touch, begging for my cock. My cum. Would you like that Harry?”

Harry barely heard the boy, becoming a moaning mess under his touch. He just nodded and said, “Yes, yes please!” the need to cum becoming too much. The boy chuckled and said, “Cum Harry, I want to see you cum. It will be the only one for a long time.”

Harry screamed as he came, ropes and ropes of thick cum shooting into the silver fire. Harry was breathing deeply, his cheeks flushed as he looked at the boy’s hand as it left his cock. The hand was covered in his cum, and the boy brought it to his blurred face. “Heavenly,” the boy said. Harry felt happy that the boy liked the taste of his cum. “We have to wake up Harry, but remember. Only I can touch you there. That is mine to play with, and only mine. Do not touch it, understand?”

Harry just nodded, still delirious from the after-effect of his powerful orgasm. “Good boy,” the boy purred. Harry felt lips press against his cheeks. “I will see you soon Harry. Wake up now.”

Harry woke up and felt very satisfied, he looked down at his crotch and didn’t see any wet spots. He lifted the sheets to see his cock soft, resting in his pubes. He felt something strange on his chest and lifted his shirt. There, clear as day, were the scratches that the boy left. “So it was real…” he said to himself. He blushed as he remembered the events of the dream, and the promise the boy made to him, and the promise the boy made Harry make, when he was coming down from his climax.

“It was just supposed to be a dream,” he said as he got out of bed. He shook his head and stretched. The scratches could be explained, right? It really was just a dream. Maybe he did them to himself.

It would have been a happy, peaceful holiday had it not been for the stories of disappearances, old accidents, even of deaths now appearing almost daily in the Prophet. Even with Lord Voldemort gone, the Death Eaters still had a strong grip on the fears of the Wizarding World, many turning to Harry. There have been articles praising Harry’s defeat of Voldemort, and begging him, goading him to go out and continue the fight. Harry didn’t answer of course, and any letters sent to him were ripped apart by Mrs. Weasley and Harry, or blocked by Albus Dumbledore. Harry’s sixteenth birthday celebrations were marred by grisly tidings brought to the party by Remus Lupin, who was looking gaunt and grim, his brown hair streaked liberally with gray, his clothes more ragged and patched than ever.

“There have been another couple of dementor attacks,” he said as Mrs. Weasley passed him a large slice of birthday cake.

“How can this stuff still be happening?” Mrs. Weasley frowning.

“Who knows,” Lupin said. “His Inner Circle are still out there. They must have taken control.”

“Did you hear about Florean Fortescue, Remus?” Bill asked, who was being plied with wine by Fleur. “The man who ran—“

“—the ice-cream place in Diagon Alley?” Harry interrupted, with an unpleasant, hollow sensation in the pit of his stomach. “He used to give me free ice creams. What’s happened to him?”

“Dragged off, by the look of his place.”

“Why?” Ron asked, while Mrs. Weasley pointedly glared at Bill.

“Who knows? He must’ve upset them somehow. He was a good man, Florean.”

“Talking of Diagon Alley,” Mr. Weasley said, “looks like Ollivander’s gone too.”

“The wandmaker?” Ginny said, looking startled.

“That’s the one. Shop’s empty. No sign of a struggle. No one knows whether he left voluntarily or was kidnapped.”

“But still why would anyone do this? Harry killed You-Know-Who! The Death Eaters should have been defeated,” Ginny said.

“They’re not going down without a fight Ginny,” Bill said.

“Enough talk of this!” Mrs. Weasley said, crossing her arms.

The day after this rather gloomy birthday tea, their letters and booklists arrived from Hogwarts. Harry’s included a surprise; He had been made Quidditch Captain. Ron and Hermione were excited, telling Harry that he now had equal status as prefects. Mrs. Weasley had told them that they were going to Diagon Alley on Saturday, and Harry felt a strange surge of excitement. He didn’t know why, but felt as if he would meet the boy there. When he went to sleep, he again dreamt of the boy and told him the good news.

“That’s great Harry! I’m so proud of you!” the boy smiled. Harry smiled and tried to turn around. He could never see the boy’s face, they were always cuddling, his back to the boy’s muscular chest, his hands running all over Harry.

“Thank you,” Harry said, feeling comfortable in the boy’s arms. He looked up at the boy, his face shrouded in shadows casted by the silver flames. “Do you know when we will meet?” he asked.

“Well, we will definitely see each other September,” the boy said. “We both need to go to Hogwarts.”

“So, Hogwarts then. We’ll see each other there?” Harry asked. The boy nodded.

“Yes Hogwarts. There, I will prove myself,” the boy said. Harry just nodded, and relaxed into the boy’s presence, both content to past the time quietly.

 

Yaxley smiled down at the cowering Ollivander. They were in the basement of his manor, the wandmaker. “I hope you find your dwellings satisfactory,” the gentlemanly Death Eater said. “My Lord wanted you captured and put into Malfoy Manor, which he was going to use as his base of operations. Unfortunately, however, my Lord was killed by that brat Potter. But don’t worry, his plans will still be played out. With that in mind, I would like to ask you one simple question: What business does my Lord have with you?”

“Please, I—I do not know,” Ollivander stuttered, looking up at Yaxley in fear. “Just let me go!”

“I’m sorry, but I cannot do that. I need to know why the Dark Lord needed your information,” Yaxley said. “It must obviously be something about his wand.” The Death Eater turned from his prisoner and towards an ancient dresser, coated with years of dust. On it was a simple wand, which Yaxley picked up with much reverence.

He turned back to Ollivander and held the wand in front of the wandmaker’s eyes, which grew large when he recognized it. “When they went to collect his body, there was no way I would let the Ministry collect this,” Yaxley said. “Lucius and I worked together to make sure to retrieve this. He made sure the hall was empty as I collected this wand.”

“W-What are you going to do?” Ollivander asked. Yaxley smiled and shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said. “I am just going to sit here and you will tell me everything about my Master’s wand. Otherwise, we will see how much my Master’s wand will obey his obedient servant.”

Scared, Ollivander stared at the wand, a cold sweat sweeping over his forehead. “I—I remember every since wand I’ve ever sold,” he began. “Even yours, … yew wood twelve inches with the hair of a unicorn. That wand has a core of a phoenix feather. The phoenix whose tail feather is in that wand gave another feather. …” He seemed hesitant to speak. Yaxley sighed and simply pointed the wand threateningly at Ollivander. The wandmaker gulped and continued, his voice shaking. “T-That feather resides in Harry Potter’s wand.”

“Interesting,” Yaxley said. “So Potter and the Dark Lord shares wand cores. …But why would this matter?”

Ollivander shook his head, “I promised I would never tell. You will not force me.”

Yaxley frowned and moved away from his prisoner. “Pity. I am not much of a torturer, and Lestrange is busy with another mission. So I guess I will just leave you in here until we move you to Malfoy Manor. Do not worry Ollivander, you will not be here long. It will only be ten days. Good day.”

Yaxley walked out of his basement and turned around. He pointed his wand at the door and magically locked it. He waved his wand again and metal bars appeared on the door, making it impossible to open. He pocketed his wand and took out his Lord’s, staring at it, worshiping it as he walked slowly to his office. “You and Potter share feathers from the same phoenix,” he talked to the wand. “There must be a reason why this is important. Whatever it is, I will find it. But for now… I will continue your plans.”

There was a knock on his office door and Yaxley gently placed the wand on his desk. He smiled a wicked, manipulative smile and said, “Ahh, come in boy! There is much we must talk about.”

 

Saturday dawned without any more outbursts from Mrs. Weasley, though she seemed very tense at breakfast. Bill, who would be staying at home with Fleur, passed a full money bag across the table to Harry.

“Where’s mine?” Ron demanded at once, his eyes wide.

“That’s already Harry’s, idiot,” Bill said. “I got it out of your vault for you, Harry, because it’s taking about five hours for the public to get to their gold at the moment, the goblins have tightened security so much. Two days ago Arkie Philport had a Probity Probe stuck up his … Well, trust me, this way’s easier.”

“Thanks, Bill,” Harry said, pocketing his gold.

“’E is always so thoughtful,” Fleur purred adoringly, stroking Bill’s nose. Ginny mimed vomiting into her cereal behind Fleur. Harry ignored her.

It was an overcast, murky day. One of the special Ministry of Magic cars was awaiting them in the front yard when they emerged from the house, pulling on their cloaks. “It’s good Dad can get us these again,” Ron said appreciatively stretching luxuriously as the car moved smoothly away from the Burrow. Harry and Ron sat closeish together as they and Hermione and Ginny occupied the backseat. Every now and then, Ginny tried to inch closer to Harry, but Harry didn’t notice or care, moving closer to Ron when he felt the female Weasley was too close. Ron didn’t mind, he liked having his best friend close to him.

“Don’t get used to it, it’s only because of Harry,” Mr. Weasley said over his shoulder. He and Mrs. Weasley were in front with the Ministry driver; the front passenger seat had obligingly stretched into what resembled a two-seater sofa. “He’s been given top-grade security status. And we’ll be joining up with additional security at the Leaky Cauldron too.”

Harry said nothing; he did not much fancy doing his shopping while surrounded by a battalion of Aurors. He had forgotten to stow his Invisibility Cloak in his bag, so he just leaned towards Ron some more, careful not to look suspicious to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Ginny saw this move and just crossed her arms.

When they reached the Leaky Cauldron, Harry looked out the window, leaning over Ron, and beamed when he saw that instead of Aurors, the gigantic, black-bearded form of Rubeus Hagrid was waiting for them.”Harry!” he boomed, sweeping Harry into a bone-crushing hug the moment Harry had stepped out of the car. “Buckbeak—Witherwings, I mean—yeh should see him, Harry, he’s so happy ter be back in the open air—“

“Glad he’s pleased,” Harry said, grinning as he massaged his ribs. “We didn’t know ‘security’ meant you!”

Hagrid proudly told Harry that Dumbledore convinced the Minister to let him come instead of the Aurors they planned. They entered the Leaky Cauldron to see that only Tom the barkeep remained. The barkeep was happy to see Hagrid, but that smile quickly faded when Hagrid told him that he wasn’t there to spend money. They went through the pub and into the back, where Mrs. Weasley touched the bricks that opened the archway that led into Diagon Alley. They walked through, only to stop and see that the alley had changed.

The colorful, glittering window displays were lost to view, hidden behind the large Ministry of Magic posters that had pasted over them. Moving black-and-white photographs of Death Eaters known to be on the loose covered the shopping district. Bellatrix Lestrange was sneering from the front of the nearest apothecary.

Harry, the Weasleys, Hagrid, and Hermione stuck close together as they walked down the Alley, ignoring the small stalls that were set up, the peddlers selling rattling amulets and protective charms. Mr. Weasley made a note of each and every one, to report to the Ministry naturally, as they made their way towards Madam Makin’s. Mr. Weasley suggested that they split up, so Harry and Ron went into the clothing shop, Harry holding the door for Hermione as Hagrid waited outside.

Madam Malkin ushered the three in as Harry heard a familiar voice. “Why are you even with me mother? I can do this by myself!” There was a clucking noise as a teenage boy with a pale, aristocratic face and white-blond hair appeared from behind the rack, wearing a handsome set of dark green robes that glittered with pins around the hem and the edges of the sleeves. Though, there was something extremely different of Draco Malfoy that Harry never noticed. For one thing, the boy is taller now, his body more filled out and muscular. He also had pointed ears. Malfoy strode to the mirror and examined himself; it was a few moments before he noticed Harry, Ron, and Hermione reflected over his shoulders. His silver eyes shimmered with an expression Harry couldn’t read.

“Oh… the mudblood,” a female’s voice said as Draco turned around. Narcissa Malfoy walked into view, followed by an angry looking Madam Malkin.

“Now see here madam, I do not approve of that type of language in here,” she said.

Narcissa just gave her a look before dropping the robes that she was carrying. “These robes must be made of drabs if they let people like these shop here. Come Draco, there are much better robes in Twilfitt and Tatting’s.” She started to stroll out of the shop.

Harry looked at Malfoy, expecting a snide or a insult. But instead he did something that Harry did not expect. While his mother walked out of the shop, Malfoy turned towards Madam Malkin and gave her a large handful of Galleons, muttering something. The store owner just nodded and flicked her wand, the pins in Malfoy’s robes disappearing.

Malfoy turned to leave, and as he passed Harry, he muttered, “Potter.” The trio watched confused as Malfoy exited the shop. “What was that about?” Ron asked.

“Dunno,” Harry said.

“Well, really!” Madam Malkin said, pocketing the money and snatching up the fallen robes and moving the tip of her wand over them like a vacuum cleaner, so that it removed all the dust.

She was distracted all through the fitting of Ron’s and Harry’s new robes, tried to sell Hermione wizard’s dress robes instead of witch’s, and when she finally bowed them out of the shop it was with an air of being glad to see the back of them.

After Madam Malkin’s, they went towards the Apothecary so Hermione could get her ingredients for Potions, and then Eeylops so Ron and Harry could stock up on treats for their owls. They regrouped with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, and after Mrs. Weasley did a head count, they went out to search for Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, the joke shop run by Fred and George.

“We really haven’t got too long,” Mrs. Weasley said. “So we’ll just have a quick look around and then back to the car. We must be close, that’s number ninety-two …ninety-four… Oh…”

Set against the dull, poster-muffled shop fronts around them, Fred and George’s windows hit the eye like a firework display. Casual passersby were looking back over their shoulders at the windows, and a few rather stunned-looking people had actually come to a halt, transfixed. The left-hand window was dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced, and shrieked; Harry’s eyes began to water just looking at it. The right-hand window was covered with a gigantic poster, purple like those of the Ministry, but emblazoned with flashing yellow letters:

**_WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO? YOU SHOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT U-NO-POO—THE CONSTIPATION SENSATION THAT’S GRIPPING THE NATION!_ **

Harry started to laugh. He heard a weak sort of moan beside him and looked around to see Mrs. Weasley gazing, dumbfounded, at the poster. “They’ll be murdered in their beds!” she whispered.

“No they won’t!” Ron said, who, like Harry, was laughing. “This is brilliant!”

And he and Harry led the way into the shop. It was packed with customers; Harry couldn’t get near the shelves. He stared around, looking up at the boxes piled to the ceiling. Harry found the twins walking around, helping their customers. They were both wearing a set of magenta robes that clashed magnificently with their flaming hair. “Harry!” they both said smiling.

“This is all fantastic!” Harry said, looking around. He shook hands with both of them, and Fred smirked. “Thank you Harry, we couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

“So, how is our little gay Harry doing?” George asked. Both twins, knew that both Harry and Ron were homosexuals, and they took it in stride, calling the boys their “little gays” as they joked around. Harry remembered that before the Twins left last year after torturing Umbridge, that they were developing a very promising and fun section of products that Ron and Harry will love.

“Fine,” Harry said.

“Come on, I’ll give you the tour,” Fred said as George went over to a small boy who was trying to pocket some sweets. He ushered Harry towards the back of the shop and held a curtain open as Harry walked into a darker, less crowded room. The packaging on the products lining these shelves was more subdued. “We’ve just developed this more serious line,” Fred said. “Funny how it happened. You wouldn’t believe how many people can’t do a decent Shield Charm, so George and I decided to make these Shield Hats, as a joke at first of course. But wouldn’t you know the Ministry bout five hundred for all its support staff!”

“So we’ve expanded into a range of Shield Cloaks, Shield Gloves…” George said as he walked into the back room. “The Defense Against the Dark Arts is such a money spinner, look at this! Instant Darkness Powder from Peru, handy if you want to make a quick escape.”

“Cool,” Harry said.

The twins gave Harry a devious smirk and George said, “But young Harry, this is not all we wanted to show you. Ready Fred?”

“Ready George,” Fred said. They went to a corner of the back room and took out their wands. With a final smirk at Harry, they both tapped the corner and a door appeared. “After you Harry,” the twins said.

The room was small, yet the products were clear on display. A blush grew on Harry’s cheeks as one of the twins gently pushed Harry into the door. On the shelf next to Harry were sex toys of various sizes, placed so that as Harry walked along, they increased in length and girth. Whips and other things littered the walls. “What is this?” Harry asked, blushing.

“Well, a bunch of witches we knew were interested to see if we have more toys,” Fred said.

“Apparently because we run a jokes shop, we also were supposed to have a selection of sex toys to sell,” George shrugged. “Anyway they kept asking and hounding us, so we just caved and made this small room. Not much profit, but hey the girls love it.”

“Oh,” Harry said. The twins smirked and said, “But hey, at least we’re having fun with some of these products! It’s basically a storage room for all the toys we’re collecting both Muggle and magical.”

Harry looked around, feeling completely shy and a bit standoffish. He didn’t see himself playing with a lot of these toys. “I don’t think a lot of these things are for me,” he said honestly.

“That’s alright,” Fred smiled. “We knew you and Ron wouldn’t be ready for all of this. So why not just look at the smaller things?”

The twins brought Harry again towards the sex toys on the shelves and pointed to a small dildo, the dildo was flesh-colored and about six inches tall, but slim. Harry stared at it, his cheeks reddening. “Umm thanks guys,” he said. “But I’m not sure if I’m into stuff like this.”

“That’s alright,” George said. “Just know that we have them here. I think we should return Fred, I’ve left Ginny and mum looking at the Pygmy Puffs.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good idea,” Fred chuckled. “Tour’s over Harry, let’s get out of the fun room and return to the others.”

Harry nodded and they unfortunately had to leave the room with all the sex toys, and instead return to the room proper, Harry instantly feeling more comfortable now that he wasn’t surrounded by sex toys and BDSM equipment.

They found Ginny and Mrs. Weasley where George said they would, and Harry walked away to look around the store some more and look for Ron as well. He found Ron and Hermione looking around and pulled Ron aside. He told Ron about the room, and he could see a smirk on Ron’s face and he looked for the twins. “You mean they had a room like that and wouldn’t show their brother?” he asked. Harry shrugged and told Ron how to get in the room. Ron smiled and thanked Harry. He left and Harry continued to wonder around. Something in the window caught his eye and he looked out and saw nothing but a couple of wizards walking around. The small group of wizards made a turn and walked into Knockturn Alley.

Harry paid no mind as he returned to looking at the jokes selection in front of him.

 

Ron looked around the small room of toys, looking very amused. The he looked, the more lewd his mind became, his clearheadedness going to a foggy feeling as he stared at some of the objects in the room. “So you like some of these stuff?” a boy’s voice asked. Ron turned around to see a boy around his age smiling down at him. The boy’s skin was dark chocolate, looking irristable as taunt lean muscles showed under his clothes. The boy’s robes were opened, and Ron could see that every inch of the boy’s body was perfection. His eyes were hypnotically brown as he smiled a dazzling smile at Ron. More lewd thoughts entered his head as he took a step towards the boy.

“E-Err yeah,” Ron breathed.

The boy smiled and brushed Ron’s cheek. “Such a cute face,” he said. “I’m Blaise, Blaise Zabini.”

“R-Ron Weasley,” Ron stuttered, just noticing the tightness in his pants.

Blaise smiled and looked around the small room. “You know, I’m into a lot of this stuff too… though I imagine me giving them instead of receiving. You?”

“Uhh,” Ron said, his mind still in a daze. “Receiving,” he said. Blaise smiled and said, “That is very attractive. So Ron, you thinking of buying any of these?”

Ron looked around, his eyes falling on one of the bigger sex toys. “Yeah, actually,” he admitted. He was going to buy a smaller one, but now that Blaise was here, and his mind can’t think clearly, in a constant state of lewd cloudiness, he wanted the bigger, darker colored sex toy. Blaise followed Ron’s eye sight and smirked. “That is a very nice one Ron,” he said.

Blaise took down the sex toy and examined it. “It has ridges and everything. … Man I be you’ll look great taking this in your ass. So Ron, sorry to be blunt, but are you single?”

“Uhh yeah,” Ron said. Blaise smiled and said, “Thanks. Well, it’s very nice to meet you Ron, what year are you in Hogwarts?”

“Sixth,” Ron said. Blaise gave him the dildo and started walking out Ron automatically started to follow him. For some reason Ron did not care that he was openly carrying a sex toy, his mind was firmly pressed on Blaise as the very attractive boy continued to walk.

“I’m in the same,” Blaise said. “Not telling what House though. I’m a bit ashamed you don’t remember me though Ron.” Blaise went to the counter, where a female worker was standing behind. He took the dildo from Ron’s hands and placed it on the counter along with a handful of money. The girl barely blushed as she packaged the sex toy in a very subtle Weasley Wizard Wheezes box and bagged it. She gave it back to Blaise, who gave it to Ron. “I’ll see you at Hogwarts Ron. Great to see you again.”

Ron just nodded and watched Blaise as he left the shop. When the boy was out of sight, the cloudiness in Ron’s head disappeared as logic took over. His face became flaming red as he looked at the bag. He can’t believe he actually brought a dildo! Ron’s blush lessened as he thought of Blaise. He didn’t know what the boy did to him, but he somehow wanted more. He liked it when he was near Blaise, and when he remembered that they would see each other at Hogwarts, that made Ron oddly excited to go to school. He shook his head and let all the lewd thoughts leave his mind as he returned to Harry, who was still looking around.

When they were done, the Weasley family plus Harry and Hermione caught up with Hagrid, who was waiting outside the jokes shop, and were escorted out of Diagon Alley. Harry noticed that Ron held his bag close to him, and that as soon as the car pulled up to the Burrow, Ron was the first to get out and rushed to his room. Harry was curious for the reason, but his thoughts returned to Malfoy as he looked at the robes he brought from Madam Malkin. Why was he sort of nice? Harry guessed that is what Malfoy looked like when he was nice. He didn’t call Hermione a mudblood, he didn’t insult Harry or Ron, he just gave Madam Malkin money and left. Harry couldn’t help but think about Malfoy for the rest of the day, distracting him for once from the mysterious boy and his silver fire.


	4. In Which a Train is Ridden and a Club is Joined

Chapter 4

In Which a Train is Ridden and a Club is Joined

“The same wand cores?” Lucius Malfoy asked. He and Yaxley were sitting in Lucius’ office at Malfoy Manor. They were both in expensive armchairs, the huge fireplace giving off the only light as the two Death Eaters met over tea. The curtains were drawn over the night sky outside.

“Yes,” Yaxley said, taking a sip of his tea. “It appears that our Lord’s wand and Potter’s both hold phoenix feathers from the same phoenix.”

“The same phoenix?” Lucius asked. “Did the wandmaker tell you who the phoenix came from?”

“No, he decided to hold onto the fact,” Yaxley sighed. “Not that I asked him, though I suppose the answer should be rather obvious.”

“You mean Dumbledore’s bird?” Lucius asked. “It would be most likely, yes.” Lucius nodded and closed his eyes as he thought. “Though, why would that be a problem?”

“I do not know,” Yaxley said. “Ollivander made a promise that he would never tell me.”

“And you did not convince him otherwise?” Lucius asked.

“My friend, you are more convincing than me,” Yaxley sighed. “I have just left him in my basement for a few days before we moved him.”

Lucius nodded and looked towards the door to his office. “Then a lesson is in order I believe.” He pointed his wand at his door and with a wave it opened, showing the two Death Eaters waiting outside. “Go fetch the wandmaker,” he told them. “And also, look to see if my son is here. I believe he should be here too.”

The two nameless Death Eaters nodded and left, leaving the doorway clear. Yaxley turned curious to his friend and said, “What is wrong with Draco?”

“The brat has turned defiant. Ever since that blasted inheritance he believes to be my better,” Lucius said calmly. “I hope that this demonstration would put the boy back onto the right path.”

“I see,” Yaxley nodded. “But do you believe watching an old man being torture will truly put a beast like him in place?”

“If not, then I will have to move on to drastic measures. Not that it matters, but Narcissa had told me that on their trip to Diagon Alley, Draco was treating those less than worthy his equals.”

“He could be having a change of heart,” Yaxley suggested.

“A change of heart that would cost this family respect and reputation I have spent years building,” Lucius said. “It is barely acceptable that he is, well a poof, but to think that he had forgotten his superiority in society and place in family… it is unforgivable.”

Yaxley nodded, “A totally understandable concern,” he said. “Though if we are to be worried about the poof thing, why not have him just marry a girl? If I remember that Parkinson girl is quite enamored with him, as well as the Greengrass sisters.”

“It is not as simple as that,” Lucius sighed, a look of disappointment on his face. “After he had told us, I have decided to do some research.” He pointed towards a bookshelf which was packed full of old heavy books and tomes. “It appears that if a creature like Draco marries or do any of the sort with someone who is not their mate, then the creature will simply kill them. So if I set Draco to marriage with any of those girls, he will simply kill them.”

“A ghastly and unfortunate end,” Yaxley said. “Though, perhaps we could use that deadliness for our advantage.”

“Perhaps. Ahh, the wandmaker.”

Lucius and Yaxley turned their attention to the door as two Death Eaters brought in the old wandmaker. He arms were chained together as he was dragged in. He looked ragged to Yaxley, much more thinner than last he saw him three months ago. His eyes were sunken in, and he had a constant quiver to him as he looked around. Lucius paid the man barely any attention as he looked at the Death Eaters. “Where is my son?”

“Couldn’t find him.”

“Worst than house elves,” Lucius grumbled. He reached for his cane and tapped it’s bottom on the floor twice. A house-elf appeared in front of him and Yaxley and bowed silently. “Go get my son,” Lucius said.

The elf shook in fear as he bowed and vanished. Lucius turned his attention to the wandmaker and smiled. “Ahh, Ollivander. So good of you to join us. Now, we have a few questions for you, and we would both like it if you will answer.”

“I-I-I made a promise,” Ollivander said. “I will not tell anyone.”

“I am sorry,” Lucius said. “It appeared that you have a misunderstanding. You don’t have a choice in the matter. So you can either tell us now, or I will simply have to extract the information from you.”

Ollivander stared at the two Death Eaters in fear. “P-Please, I’ve promised Dumbledore that I would never tell!”

“Dumbledore?” Yaxley asked. “What does Dumbledore have to do with this?”

“I will not say,” Ollivander declared.

“Pity,” Lucius frowned. He made to stand, but just as he did the house-elf appeared again before him, trembling. “What is it? Can’t you see that I am busy?”

“Sorry sir, but –but Master Draco isn’t here sir,” the elf trembled.

Lucius glared at the elf, and turned his anger for his son onto it, pointing his wand and scnarling, “ _Crucio!_ ” The elf screamed and withered in pain and anguish. Ollivander screamed in horror at the abuse. Lucius kept the Curse going, the room filled with the elf’s screaming. Then, as sudden as it started, it stopped. Lucius ceased the spell and glared down at the house-elf. “Go punish yourself,” he told it.

“Y-Yes Master,” the elf sobbed before disappearing.

“Y-you-you…” Ollivander stuttered.

“Sorry for the interruption,” Lucius sighed. “My son is being rather rebellious nowadays. Now, Ollivander you have one more chance.”

“I-I will not tell you,” Ollivander said again.

Lucius frowned. “Pity,” he said again, aiming his wand at the old man. “ _Imperio._ ”

The spell took effect of the old man, his defiant, haggard face relaxing to a dull, empty-minded one as Lucius took over. “Now, tell me why Potter and the Dark Lord sharing wand cores are so important,” Lucius demanded.

“The wands are brothers,” Ollivander said, his voice forced, yet relaxed. “They cannot destroy each other. When forced to duel, the wands produce an event called Priori Incantatem, which forces the loser’s wand to produce echoes of their latest spells.”

“Must be the golden cage that appeared during their duel two years ago,” Yaxley said, looking at Lucius. “Do you remember that?”

“Yes,” Lucius nodded. “If I remember, that Diggory kid came out of our Lord’s wand, even though he was killed hours earlier. The same with Potter’s parents and that muggle.”

“So, as long as our Lord and Potter had the same wand cores, that effect would always happen,” Yaxley nodded. “Then our Lord have simply needed to look for another wand then.”

“A stronger one, if one exists,” Lucius said. He looked at the Wandmaker. “Tell us, if our Lord were to look for another wand, what would it be?”

“No, please I can’t—Dumbledore I promised—“ Ollivander panicked, snapping to his senses.

“ _Imperio!_ ” Lucius snarled, jabbing his wand at the old wandmaker. Ollivander screamed in terror and pain before having the same dazed look as before. “Now tell us where we can find a stronger wand.”

“The…. The…” Ollivander stuttered, trying his hardest to keep his mouth shut.

“No, don’t be like that, tell us,” Lucius said.

With great pain, Ollivander groaned and sobbed. “The Elder Wand!”

“The Elder Wand?” Lucius said again, frowning. He looked at Yaxley, who had a similar frown. “Why does that sound so familiar?”

“The children’s story,” Yaxley said. “ _The Tale of the Three Brothers,_ if I remember correctly.”

Lucius frowned and looked at Ollivander. “Surely you do not think that we will believe such fairytales.”

“It’s true,” Ollivander said exhausted. “The Elder Wand… it is out there. Please, no more…”

“So this is the secret Dumbledore wanted you to keep, interesting,” Lucius muttered. He looked at the two Death Eaters still standing by Ollivander’s side. “Take him away! We don’t need him now. Leave him in the dungeons and search for my son.”

The two Death Eaters pulled Ollivander to his feet and dragged him out of the office. With the door closed, Yaxley and Lucius looked back at each other. “Surely our Lord couldn’t have been looking for a fairytale,” Lucius said.

“I agree… yet I feel I do not remember the story very well,” Yaxley said.

Lucius nodded and looked towards the many bookshelves that decorated the office walls. “I am sure that we have a copy in this manor somewhere. I remember Narcissa reading them to Draco. You may borrow it if you would like. Who knows, it may bring to light why Ollivander and Dumbledore believe our Lord childish enough to search for it.”

“Thank you my friend, I will,” Yaxley said standing up. “I will have one of my elves come and collect it later. For now, I have business.”

“I still believe that my Draco would do a better job,” Lucius said. “Especially with his new… powers. We just need to make sure he knows his rightful place.”

“Indeed, but until then my friend, we will have to do with the boy,” Yaxley said. “Good day Malfoy.”

“Good bye Yaxley,” Lucius said.

Yaxley walked out of Lucius’ office and down towards the Foyer of Malfoy Manor. As he walked out of the front doors, he started to feel a little light headed. He looked around and squinted at the moonlight. There was nothing around him, and yet for a moment everything seemed hazy as the gentleman took out his wand. As he turned to Apparate, he felt a tingling sensation around his body before turning to normal as he appeared at his home.

Yaxley walked into his own office and smirked when he saw the boy sitting in the armchair in front of his desk. “Precisely on time,” he commented.

“I am never late for an appointment, sir,” the boy smirked. “We agreed to meet at eleven at night, so here I am.”

“That is good,” Yaxley chuckled, the same sensation appearing again for a moment before disappearing again. It felt as if a wraith or something kept touching Yaxley’s neck before disappearing again. “So, I am to believe that everything is in order?”

“Yes sir,” the boy said, his handsome face smiling respectfully. “I have everything in order, and know exactly what I will be doing.”

“That is good,” Yaxley hissed. He opened a drawer and pulled out Voldemort’s Wand, taking it preciously in his fingers and twirled it lightly as he leaned his elbows on the desk. “Now boy, tell me your plan,” Yaxley hissed again with a cruel smile that did not fit his face.

 

Before Harry knew it, it was time for him, Ron, and Hermione to board the Hogwarts Express. Over the last few weeks of his holiday, Harry noticed that Ginny Weasley kept giving him strange looks. He wondered why the youngest Weasley kept looking at him, and thought about asking Ron, but he didn’t act upon it. Instead, he ignored the looks she gave him, and instead he and Ron spent the days playing Quidditch. On the day they needed to leave, Harry woke up saddened that his nightly visit with the boy had to come to an end, but happy that he would finally be able to see the boy in real life. Harry enjoyed every night he had spent in his dreams, mostly he and the boy just laid comfortably in silence, letting the silver flames keep them warm as they enjoy each other’s company, but when they did talk it was mostly about Harry. His past, how he was treated as a kid, and his times and adventures with Ron and Hermione. After every story, the boy wrapped his arms around Harry’s naked waist and promised that he would never feel that pain ever again.

He made sure his new Quidditch Captain badge was packed in his trunk before grabbing his dirty Quidditch clothes and left the bedroom’ Mrs. Wesley had been urging them for days not to leave their washing and packing until the last moment. When he turned into the kitchen, he found Fleur sitting at the kitchen table, in full flow about plans for her wedding to Bill, while Mrs. Weasley kept watch over a pile of self-peeling sprouts, looking bad-tempered.

“…Bill and I ‘ave almost decided on only two bridesmaids, Ginny and Gabrielle will look very sweet togezzer. I am theenking of dressing zem in pale gold—pink would of course be ‘orrible with Ginny’s ‘air—“

“Ah, Harry!” Mrs. Weasley said loudly, cutting across Fleur’s monologue. “Good, I wanted to explain about the security arrangements for the journey to Hogwarts tomorrow. We’ve got Ministry cars again, and there will be Aurors waiting at the station—“

“Is Tonks going to be there?” Harry asked, handing over his Quidditch things.

“No, I don’t think so, she’s been stationed somewhere else from what Arthur said.”

“She had let ‘erself go, zat Tonks,” FLuer mused, examing her own stunning reflection in the back of a teaspoon. “A big mistake if you ask—“

“Yes, thank you,” Mrs. Weasley said tartly, cutting across Fleur again. “You’d better get on, Harry, I want the trunks ready tonight, if possible so we don’t have the usual last-minute scramble.”

In fact, their departure was the smoothest Harry have seen the next morning. After having a dreamless night, Harry guessed the boy was saying the truth when he told him that the next time they would see each other would be on the train. The only hiccup to their departure, much to Harry’s annoyance, was Ginny, who had forgotten her Pygmy Puff. But she got it quickly, and they were underway towards King’s Cross, Harry and Ron sitting close again.

There was no Hagrid waiting for them, instead two grim-faced bearded Aurors in dark Muggle suits, who flanked the party and marched them into the station without speaking. One of them tried to man-handle Harry through the barrier, but Harry broke free and walked into the barrier, ignoring his silent companion. He was too busy looking around for his boy. His mind was spinning as he thought about who he was. Could it be a sixth year? A seventh year? He knew that the boy was older than him, and that he was in peak physical health.

Harry had little time to look as he boarded the train and looked for an empty compartment. Ron and Hermione left to do their Prefect duties and left Harry to himself. With a yawn he relaxed into his seat and felt something in his pocket. Confused, he dug through it and brought out a perfectly folded piece of paper with Dumbledore’s handwriting.

_Harry,_

_I am sorry to have to get this letter to you like this, but it seems I have forgotten to inform you that I would like you to come to my office for some important lessons that I believe would be very helpful. I will send a future letter with the date of the first lesson._

_Good luck this term,_

_Professor Dumbledore_

“Lessons?” Harry mumbled to himself. He wondered what Dumbledore wanted to teach him as he put the letter back into his pocket as the compartment door opened. Much to his displeasure, Malfoy was standing there alone. “What do you want Malfoy?” he spat, glaring at the boy.

“Can’t I choose a place to sit Potter?” Malfoy said.

“Not when I’m in here,” Harry said. “Get out.”

“Never knew the lion had so much venom,” Malfoy chuckled. He closed the compartment door behind him and sat down across from Harry.

“Didn’t you hear me Malfoy? I told you to get out,” Harry said. “What do you even want?”

“Just a place to sit Potter,” Malfoy smirked. “Why don’t you believe that?”

“Because it’s you Malfoy,” Potter said, glaring at the boy. He barely noticed Draco’s new body, nor how it closely resembled the body of the boy from his dreams.

“I assure you Potter, I am not who you think I am,” Malfoy said.

“So you’re not a pretentious prat who annoyed me for the past five years and always been a thorn in my back?” Harry asked.

“Well, yeah I was but—“

“Sod off Malfoy, before I make you do so,” Harry said standing up, quickly reaching for his wand. But before he could reach it, he heard a strange low growl and Malfoy hand was on his. “Wha—“

Malfoy pulled Harry to his chest and again Harry heard the strange growl. A calming sensation fell over him before he came to his senses and pushed Malfoy away. “What the hell Malfoy?” Harry sneered, his cheeks flustered for some reason. The compartment door opened and Neville and Luna stood, looking in. “Umm Harry?” Neville asked.

Malfoy looked between them and smiled at Harry. “I wasn’t lying,” he said.

“Sod off,” Harry repeated. Malfoy just chuckled and left, his void being filled by Neville and Luna.

“What was that about Harry?” Neville asked.

“Don’t know,” Harry shrugged.

“Are we still doing D.A. meetings this year, Harry?” Luna asked, who was detaching a pair of psychedelic spectacles from the middle of _The Quibbler_.

“No point now we’ve got rid of Umbridge, is there?” Harry said, sitting down again. Neville looked very disappointed. “I liked the D.A.! I learned loads with you!”

“I enjoyed the meetings too,” Luna said serenely. “It was like having friends.”

This was one of those uncomfortable things Luna often said and which made Harry feel a squirming mixture of pity and embarrassment. Before he could respond, however, there was a knocking at their compartment. A first year boy, looking absolutely terrified, stood in front of their compartment and said as Harry opened the door, “T-These are f-for Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom.”

He was holding two letters. Harry thanked the boy for them, and watched as the eleven year old run back to his compartment. “Who was it?” Neville asked.

“Message boy,” Harry said as he gave Neville the letter. He looked at his and read the invitation.

_Harry,_

_I would be delighted if you would join me for a bit of lunch in compartment C._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor H.E.F. Slughorn._

“Who is Professor Slughorn?” Neville asked, reading his invitation.

“New teacher,” Harry said. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to go, won’t we?”

“But what does he want me for?” Neville asked nervously as though he was expecting detention.

“No idea,” Harry said. “Let’s go.”

They made their way down the corridors, passing by compartment and compartment filled with students pressing their noses against the glass to get a better look at the boys. When they reached compartment C, they saw at once that they were not Slughorn’s only invitees, although judging by the enthusiasm of Slughorn’s welcome, Harry was the most warmly anticipated.

“Harry m’boy!” Slughorn said, jumping up at the sight of him so that his great velvet-covered belly seemed to fill all the remaining space in the compartment. “Good to see you, good to see you! And you must be Mr. Longbottom!”

Neville nodded, looking scared. At a gesture from Slughorn, they sat down opposite each other in the only two empty seats, which were nearest the door. Harry glanced around at their fellow guests. He recognized a Slytherin from their year, a tall black boy with high cheekbones and long, slanting eyes. He noticed that the boy was sitting comfortably in the seat, a knowing smirk as he looked at Neville and Harry as they sat down. There was also two seventh-year boys Harry did not know and, squashed in the corner beside Slughorn and looking as though she was not entirely sure how she had got there, Ginny. Harry noticed that while she looked nervous, the other boys seemed relaxed, if a bit dazed, their eyes glancing to the black Slytherin with weird looks. Harry couldn’t help but look at the boy too. Slughorn and Ginny, curiously, seemed entirely unaffected as Slughorn said, “Now do you know everyone? Blaise Zabini is in your year, of course—“

Slughorn pointed to the black boy, who did not make any sign of greeting, except staring at the boys curiously. Harry and Neville didn’t made any greetings either.

“This is Cormac McLaggen, perhaps you’ve come across each other—? No?”

McLaggen, a large, wiry-haired youth, raised a hand, and Harry and Neville nodded back at him.

“—and this is Marcus Belby, I don’t know whether—?”

Belby, who was thin and nervous-looking, but staring openly at Zabini, gave a strained smile.

“—and this charming young lady tells me she knows you!” Slughorn finished.

Ginny grimaced at Harry and Neville from behind Slughorn’s back.

“Well now, this is most pleasant,” Slughorn said cozily. “A chance to get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin, I’ve packed my own lunch; the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on licorice wands, and a poor old man’s digestive system isn’t quite up to such things. …Are you okay Belby, you looked absolutely soaked.”

“Belby started and looked at Slughorn, turning his attention from Zabini for the first time. “Uhh I’m fine sir,” he said, taking an offered pheasant from the teacher.

“Well, perhaps I should open a window then,” Slughorn chuckled. “Wouldn’t want any unfortunate embarrassments happening here.” He took out his wand and waved idly at the windows of the compartment, each one opening silently. “Nice breeze, isn’t Zabini?”

“Yes sir,” Zabini said coolly.

“Right now, Cormac,” Slughorn said, “I happen to know you see a lot of your Uncle Tiberius, because he has a rather splendid picture of the two of you hunting nogtails in, I think, Norfolk?”

“Oh, yeah, that was fun, that was,” McLaggen said. “We went with Bertie Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeour—this was before he became Minister, obviously—“

“Ah, you know Bertie and Rufus too?” Slughorn beamed, now offering around a small tray of pies. “Now tell me…”

It was as Harry suspected. Everyone here seemed to have been invited because they were connected to somebody well-known or influential—everyone except Ginny, whom, Harry learned, showed off a rather excellent Bat-Bogey Hex that impressed Slughorn so much that he invited her. Harry stayed quiet as Slughorn went through each student there, talking about their family members who each did fantastic or influential things from Zabini’s famously beautiful mother, who married multiple times and every one of her husbands died leaving her money, to Neville’s parents, who fought against Voldemort. Though, when he reached Neville, the boy looked and felt very uncomfortable, Harry could feel his awkwardness as Slughorn talked about his parents. Harry felt that Slughorn was reserving judgment on Neville, yet to see whether he had any of his parents’ flair.

When it was Harry’s turn, Slughorn could barely hold his excitement. “Where to begin?” Slughorn asked. “I feel I barely scratched the surface when we met over the summer!” He contemplated Harry for a moment as though he was a particularly large and succulent piece of pheasant, then said, “’The Chosen One,’ they’re calling you now!”

Harry said nothing, Belby, McLaggen, and Zabini were all staring at him.

“Of course,” Slughorn said, watching Harry closely, “there have been rumors for years. …I remember when—well—after that _terrible_ night—Lily—James—and you survived—and the word was that you must have powers beyond the ordinary—and if what happened in the Ministry is true!”

“Of course,” Slughorn continued, “one doesn’t know what to believe, the _Prophet_ has been known to print inaccuracies, make mistakes—but there seems little doubt, given the number of witnesses. To think that a _Stunning Spell_ would do him in, and there you are in the thick of it all!”

Harry, who could not see any way out of this without flatly lying, and not wanting to think about that night, nodded but still said nothing. Slughorn beamed at him.

“So modest, so modest, no wonder Dumbledore is so fond—the rest of the stories then, so sensational, of course, one doesn’t know quite what to believe—this fabled prophecy, for instance—“

“We never heard a prophecy,” Neville said, turning geranium pink as he said it.

“That’s right,” Ginny said staunchly. “Neville and I were both there too, and all this ‘Chosen One’ rubbish is just the _Prophet_ making things up as usual.” Harry felt a small glare from the youngest Weasley as she said this.

Slughorn seemed to miss the glare as he said with great interest, “You were both there too, were you?”

“Yes …well… it is true that the Prophet often exaggerates, of course,” Slughorn said, sounding a little disappointed before going off on a long and boring tangent about a character named Gwenog, the Captain of the Holyhead Harpies, whom Harry had never seen in his life expect for posters and pictures of her, and will never see in his life, largely because he was not a fan the Holyhead Harpies. As Slughorn continued in his reminiscence, it is important to look at several small events in the train that were happening simultaneously, such as Ron and Hermione returning to the compartment Harry and Neville were just in, sitting down across from Luna who told the two where Harry and Neville were currently. There was also the case of the compartment that held Draco Malfoy and several other Slytherins. While the other Slytherins were only mildly curious about what Slughorn wanted Zabini for, Draco’s mind was fully occupied with thoughts of Harry. Their last encounter went less than steller, and he was planning on how he could woo the Gryffindor with ease. And lastly, at the back of the train, a lone student sat, his nerves on edge with the task he was given. Everything was set up, everything will go smoothly. He just needed to find it first.

All of that happened simultaneously while Slughorn prattled on about his past students, though naturally Harry didn’t know of any of the said events. Instead Harry was waiting to leave as the afternoon wore on, unable to find a way to politely do so. Finally, the train emerged from yet another long misty stretch into a red sunset, and Slughorn looked around, blinking in the twilight.

“Good gracious, it’s getting dark already! I didn’t notice that they’d lit the lamps! You’d better go and change into your robes, all of you. McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on nogtails. Harry, Blaise—any time you’re passing. Same goes for you, miss,” he twinkled at Ginny. “Well, off you go, off you go!”

Harry, Neville, and Ginny followed Zabini back along the train, the three Gryffindors talking about how the female Weasley got into the club. Blaise did not care. He blocked them out, except for Neville’s voice. He was kind today to his mate, while he unconsciously affected the other boys in the compartment, including Draco’s dear mate Harry, Blaise made sure that his mate barely felt the effect at all. He seemed nervous enough to Blaise simply being there, so Blaise figured Neville feeling flustered would only make the Gryffindor panic more.

He made his way back to his compartment and opened the sliding door. Crabbe and Goyle were sitting looking stupid as ever, Crabbe reading a comic while Goyle just looked out the window. Blaise ignored them as he looked towards Draco, who was sprawled across the opposite seats. Parkinson was also there, and it was clear to Blaise that she tried to pull Draco’s head onto her lap, by the hurt glare she sent to the dragon. “So Zabini,” Draco said, “what did Slughorn want?”

“Just trying to make up to well-connected people,” Zabini said, glaring at Crabbe and Goyle to move away from him. “Not that he managed to find many.”

“Who else had he invited?” Draco asked.

“McLaggen from Gryffindor,” Blaise said.

“Oh yeah, his uncle’s big in the Minsitry,” Draco said.

“—someone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw—“

“Not him, he’s a prat!” Pansy said.

“Like him already,” Draco said. “Who else?” he asked, ignoring the glare from Pansy.

“—and N—Longbottom, Potter, and that Weasley girl,” Blaise finished.

Draco sat up very suddenly. “Out,” he said to the compartment.

“Draco?” Pansy asked.”

“Out,” he said louder. Crabbe and Goyle got out of their seats and left the compartment immediately. Blaise sat back, knowing that Draco wasn’t talking to him. Unfortunately, Parkinson seemed to think that she was immune. “I said out,” Draco said more forcefully. Parkinson was still cozy in her seat, turning to Blaise expectedly.

“He means you Pansy,” Blaise shrugged.

“Draco, whatever it is, you can tell me,” the witch smiled at Draco. Draco glared at her but said nothing. She met the glare, but huffed. “Fine! Just don’t treat me this way when I am Mrs. Malfoy,” she complained as she opened the compartment door and closed it.

“What do you mean Harry and Neville were there?” Draco demanded.

“Just that,” Blaise shrugged. “Your mate was there, sitting along with my mate.”

Draco gave Blaise a sharp look, to which Blaise just smirked. “Of course I did,” the incubus said. “Couldn’t help it. Though, naturally the Weasley girl and Slughorn were unaffected. And I was trying my hardest to make sure that sweet Neville did not feel anything.”

“Why not?” Draco asked shortly.

“Well he was trembling,” Blaise said. “I didn’t want to add more problems onto his worries.”

“But still you let it affect my mate?” Draco snarled.

“Not that much,” Blaise said. “All he felt was a blush.”

Draco continued to glare at him. “What else happened?” he asked, deciding to change the topic.

“Just about witches and wizards who were part of his ‘Slug Club’ as they put it. Didn’t pay attention, was too busy with Neville,” Blaise shrugged.

“If he was looking for influential wizards, then why wasn’t I there?” Draco asked.

“Guess you can blame your father for that,” Blaise said. “He asked me about Nott’s father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he’d been caught at the Ministry he didn’t look happy, and Nott didn’t get an invitation did he? I don’t’ think Slughorn’s interested in Death Eaters.”

Draco let out a force laugh. “So even now father is making sure I am away from my mate and he doesn’t even know it!”

“You heard from him? Your father?” Blaise asked.

“No,” Draco said. “Though, knowing the man he is most likely furious that I was not at home. Thank you by the way for letting me stay with you during the summer, much more relaxing then being surrounded by Death Eaters. And your elves cook better.”

“What can I say? Italians are just better, both the wizards and the house-elves,” Blaise chuckled. “Though, you sure that your father won’t do anything stupid?”

“Of course not,” Draco said. “I am his son, and he can’t control me anymore. I am a Drogo, no one can stop me. Not even the Dark Lord if he was still living.”

“Cocky,” Blaise laughed at Draco’s smirk. “Though, maybe you’re right, who knows.” He looked to the door and frowned. “You think they’re still waiting out there?”

“Let them wait all they want,” Draco shrugged, returning to his original position. “It’s better this way, quieter.”

“That is very true,” Blaise chuckled, mimicking Draco. He looked over to his friend and said, “So Draco the Drogo, how is it that you are going to seduce little Potter?”

“Easily,” Draco smirked. “Have you seen the way I look? I give my mate three months top, then he will be begging for me to even kiss him.” Blaise laughed hard, earning him a small glare from the Malfoy heir. “And what of you, Zabini?”

“Oh, better than three months, that’s for sure,” Zabini laughed. “By the end of this week, Ronald Weasley will be mine.”

“And Longbottom?”

“Christmas,” Blaise shrugged. The two friends grinned at each other before the compartment door slid open, an annoyed Parkinson appearing at the doorway. “The train is stopping and we have been waiting here,” she declared.

“I did not tell you to come back,” Draco said, looking out the window to see the train slowing to a stop in front of Hogsmeade. He and Blaise stood up and gathered their luggage. Draco walked wordlessly past the three Slytherins with Blaise following him.

“You think she is going to be a problem?” Blaise asked.

“No,” Draco shrugged. “She’s just a girl. An annoying one at that. Why should any focus be given to her?”

“Fair enough,” Blaise said. And the two moved on to other topics as they walked off of Hogwarts Express.

 

Even though he lived alone, and has so for many years, Yaxley still felt a need to read out loud as he opened the book he borrowed from Lucius. “’ _So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence: a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death! So Death crossed to an elder tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother.’_ ”

As he read, he again felt that strange presence on the back of his neck, again as if a wraith was hovering over him, waiting with its chilled hands on Yaxley’s skin. The Death Eater ignored the strange feeling for as soon as it was there, it vanished, and so he continued to read the children’s story.

“… ‘ _The first brother traveled on for a week or more, and reaching a distant village, sought out a fellow wizard with whom he had a quarrel. Naturally, with the Elder Wand as his weapon, he could not fail to win the duel that followed. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the oldest brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted loudly of the powerful wand he had snatched from Death himself, and how it made him invincible._

_“’That very night, another wizard crept upon the oldest brother as he lay, wine-sodden, upon his bed. The thief took the wand and, for good measure, slit the oldest brother’s throat. And so Death took the first brother for his own.’_

“I hardly see any point of this,” Yaxley commentated, putting the book down. “If this Elder Wand truly existed, then why wasn’t there any record of this? A wand this powerful… it must surely be in the history books somewhere. Unless… perhaps the wand’s history is clear, it has just been covered by blood or death. Death… yes I remember, legend said that if a person was to hold the wand, the stone and the cloak they would have become the ‘Master of Death.’ If our Lord held such a title, then he would have easily destroy Potter, Dumbledore, and the rest of that miserable order. Yet… the wandmaker said he made a promise to Dumbledore, was the promise simply the fairytale? No, it couldn’t be. There must be something more…”

Yaxley stood from his reading chair by the fireplace, and strode towards his desk. It seemed that he had spent his entire life in this room, pacing the flooring as he thought and schemed decisions, plans, and certain events. This was no different, yet this time he had an audience for there, sitting perfectly on his desk was again his Master’s wand. Yaxley stared at the wand, thinking aloud. “My master was unable to kill Potter with his own wand, and death was the result. Even in all his power, my Lord was killed by a luck shot. A Stunner to the heart! If he had the Elder Wand… the Deathstick… then truly he would have been victorious over Potter and Dumbledore.”

Yaxley turned his attention to the book again and muttered, “ _’…a wand that must always win duels for its owner’_ … Has Dumbledore ever lost a duel? I wonder…” He felt the strange sensation growing on his neck again, and continued his muttering. “He and my Lord have faced countless times, yet he had never lost, never. Could it be that the Elder Wand truly exists? And Albus Dumbledore wields it? Or could it be pure dumb luck? My Lord, I am afraid I am at a lost. It seems I need to ask the wandmaker more questions.”

Yaxley turned towards the wand and just stared at it, transfixed as he lost himself in his own thoughts. Yes, Ollivander knows, he must. The wandmaker had made a deal with Dumbledore, a promise that he swore he would never tell. Ollivander must be hiding something both he and Dumbledore wouldn’t want the Death Eaters to know, wouldn’t want the Dark Lord to ever find out. But he will. Yaxley will uncover the truth that Dumbledore holds from his Lord, and he will make sure that the Order, and Dumbledore, will fall for daring to hide what rightfully belongs to his Lord.

“You are the strongest wizard in our age, my Lord,” Yaxley said aloud. “If there is a wand more powerful than any other, then it should rightfully be yours. I will find it, and with it’s power I will do your biding, my Dark Lord. Though you are gone, I will make sure that the world will still fear your name. Now, and forever. But first, I believe I need to visit a certain wandmaker. After all, he is withholding information that we require my Lord. Oh, if only Lestrange wasn’t so busy. I am no good at torturing as she is. Yet, if I must, I must.”

Yaxley took Voldemort’s wand with him, smirking the same smirk from earlier as he walked towards the fireplace. “Though late at night, I see no reason to delay the visit. I am sure they won’t mind.”


	5. In Which Draco Stares and Harry Learns

Chapter 5

In Which Draco Stares and Harry Learns

Harry felt he was being stared at. It was an odd feeling, a troublesome feeling, a feeling that one would rather never experience as it felt as if every movement, every breath was being judged or recorded, as if looking for the smallest of faults. There was the usual staring from the younger years, and other students who were staring at him simply because he was the “Chosen One,” according to the Daily Prophet, but there was something else that bothered Harry. The staring that Harry felt currently was that which is similar of a predator staring at his prey. Harry could not find the person who was staring at him, but still the feeling kept. The hairs of his neck stood on end in the Great Hall as the Sorting of the first years started. It felt penetrating, invasive, lewd, nonconsensual, and any other word Harry could think of that would describe how awful this staring is. Of course, he did not know the obvious perpetrator, and his true intentions, but if he did, Harry would feel as if he was a meat put on display as the staring continued. He tried to ignored it, as you can only do when you are unknowingly being stared at by a dragon in human form, but yet Harry could not shake off the feeling of slimy disgust that brought up inside him.

It should be noted, at this time, what exactly is nonconsensual staring, and consensual staring, as both will be witnessed periodically in future events. Nonconsensual staring is what Harry deals with all the time, as for not only is he the Boy-Who-Lived and the Chosen-One, but he is, again unknown to him, the submissive mate to a Drogo whose name is Draco Malfoy. Not that he knew what a Drogo is, or that Malfoy is one. It is when students just turn and look at Harry where ever he goes, followed most likely by gossip or whispering about details they’ve gotten wrong, or business that is in no way theirs. The students staring, or really anyone staring at one certain target or individual is considered, while creepy and slightly offensive to a person’s privacy, mostly harmless. The worst Harry can and does feel is the heated fluster of his cheeks as he realize that people are staring at him for absolutely no good reason other than he did a thing as a baby, and continued to do the thing in multiple variations including a disfigured face, a diary, a man who can turn into a rat, the real thing, and a woman in pink followed by the real thing again whose body is currently rotting in a ditch off the bank of the River Lee (Scrimgeour’s idea). So far no one had tried to come up to him to talk about the incident in the Ministry, he did not want to talk about it at all, and he hoped that the stares would be the worst he would have to face because of what happened.

A consensual stare can be found in many forms, ranging from the romantic to the embarrassing, and all involves loved ones who are friends, family, or lovers. Beginning with friends, one such staring is the stare a friend gives when the other friend has food stuck somewhere on their faces without noticing. For example, Harry was staring at Ron for a bit after the sorting was over as Ron had a bit of mashed potatoes on the side of his lips. He did not know how to subtly tell his friend of this, so instead he just blurted out to Ron that he did in fact had potato on his face. Luckily for them, Hermione also noticed and offered her napkin to Ron so he could clean. A second form of consensual staring is that between lovers, for instant Ron and Blaise. Now while they have not reached that point, but will in the paragraphs below in great detail, Blaise had too kept staring at Ron, as Draco stared at Harry. The difference, however, is that while the Drogo was staring at Harry lewdfully, as if the boy was already his conquest, the Incubus surprisingly did not have a lewd thought in his head. No the “worst” Blaise Zabini was thinking of was both him and Ron just laying down in a comfortable bed, looking at each other and saying nothing. Blaise, while looking at Ron as a lover and equal, was daydreaming of the third form of consensual staring, a look that can only be shared by lovers whose true meaning is a mystery to everyone, including the great Albus Dumbledore.

Yes! The strange difference between the stares of Blaise Zabini to Ronald Weasley and Draco Malfoy to Harry Potter can perfectly illustrate the difference between consensual staring and nonconsensual staring, for they both want the same end goal. Beginning with Blaise, though Ron is unknowing of his stares, his intent is pure and obvious if memories go back to the incident in Fred and George’s very small and little profit side business. The gift that Blaise has given him, which for the perverted Ron has used multiple times already, was both the Incubus’s offering for a courtship, and Ron’s acceptance. Though unspoken, it was clear and favorable for both parties involved. Which is why, when Blaise looked at Ron after Hermione helped him with the embarrassing mashed potatoes incident, Ron returned the look and smiled shyly. Ron did not care that Blaise was apparently a Slytherin, for his thoughts kept returning to their time in the dreadfully small and little-profit part of Weasleys Wizards Wheeze, and his want of more contact with the boy. This mutual want started a sort of staring contest between the two that went unnoticed by Hermione and Harry as they turned their attention to Dumbledore’s speech, which had to briefly delay Blaise’s and Ron’s occasional stares. This is compared to Draco’s stares to Harry. To put it simply, and briefly, Draco’s stares were quite the opposite of Blaise’s, for while he does want to know the elusive third kind of staring between him and Harry, unfortunately his instincts and aggressions from his Drogo inheritance were currently standing in his way. To the Drogo mind, mates belong to them the moment a Drogo realize who the mate is. Harry is Draco’s mate, ergo Harry’s is his. Draco can do whatever he wants, even though society and proper courtship etiquette tells him not to.

So, unfortunately for Harry, the nonconsensual staring continued, which made him feel slightly nauseous as Dumbledore said, “We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn”—Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, his big waistcoated belly casting the table below into shadow—“is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master.”

“Potions?”

“ _Potions?_ ”

“Potions?” Ron and Hermione said together, turning to stare at Harry. “But you said—“

“Professor Snape, meanwhile,” Dumbledore said, raising his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, “will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

“No!” Harry said so loudly that many heads turned in his direction. He did not care; he was staring up at the staff table, incensed. How could Snape be given the Defense Against the Dark Arts job after all this time? Hadn’t it been widely known for years that Dumbledore did not trust him to do it?

“But Harry, you said that Slughorn was going to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts!” Hermione said.

“I thought he was!” Harry said, racking his brains to remember when Dumbledore had told him this, but now that he came to think of it, he was unable to recall Dumbledore ever telling him what Slughorn would be teaching.

Snape, who was sitting on Dumbledore’s right, did not stand up at the mention of his name; he merely raised a hand in lazy acknowledgement of the applause from the Slytherin table, yet, Harry was sure he could detect a look of triumph on the features he loathed so much.

“Well, there’s one good thing,” he said savagely. “Snape’ll be gone by the end of the year.”

“What do you mean?” Ron asked.

“That job’s jinxed. No one’s lasted more than a year. …Quirrell actually died doing it. …Personally, I’m going to keep my fingers crossed for another death. …”

“Harry!” Hermione said, shocked and reproachful.

“He might just go back to teaching Potions at the end of the year,” Ron said reasonably. “That Slughorn bloke might not want to stay long-term. Moody didn’t.”

Dumbledore cleared his throat. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were not the only ones who had been talking; the whole Hall had erupted in a buzz of conversation at the news that Snape had finally achieved his true heart’s desire. Dumbledore said nothing more about staff appointments, but waited a few seconds to ensure that the silence was absolute before continuing.

“Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, while Lord Voldemort might be gone, his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength. …”

 

“You are more resistant then I thought,” Yaxley said. He and Lucius Malfoy were in the basement of Malfoy Manor, Ollivander trembling before them.

“Is this really necessary Yaxley?” Lucius asked. “All this trouble for a children’s story?”

“Yes Malfoy,” Yaxley said. “This man knows more about the Elder Wand then he lets on. I intend to learn more about it.”

“Why do you even need to learn of a fairytale? I can tell you now that it does not exist,” Lucius said.

“But it does Malfoy. I know it does!” Yaxley said a tad frantically. He turned back to the wandmaker and yelled, “Tell me!”

“I-I-I can’t—Dumbledore—“ His words turned to screams as Yaxley hit him with a Cruciatus Curse. Lucius looked at the gentlemanly Death Eater and saw a mad glint in his eye. He frowned at the excess of torture his fellow Death Eater was showing, as he had never lost his cool before. Yaxley didn’t let the Curse go until the old man’s screams turned into jumbled muttering.

“Tell me,” he seethed as he pointed his wand at the wandmaker. It was then, that Lucius noticed something odd. Yaxley wasn’t using his own wand. “Tell me, or else there will be far worse consequences.”

Ollivander’s mutterings did not stop. He tired to say words, but his body refused as it shook violently. He spittle and sobbed as he forced his tongue and lips to obey him. Lucius watched in disgust as the old man was reduced to this state, his thoughts returning to the same man who years ago sold Lucius his wand. ‘To think the man had fallen so,’ he thought to himself. Yaxley however, watched intently. Not in pleasure, or disgust as he waited for the information he required. “Tell me,” he hissed.

Ollivander’s lips continued to trembled as he finally gotten them moist for use. “T-t-t-the wand has a—has a—a bloody history,” he said.

“A bloody history?” Yaxley asked, intrigued. “Explain.”

“No, no, I can’t” the wandmaker moaned. Yaxley frowned at this and turned from him. “Keep him here,” he ordered Lucius, his voice high and cold. “I need to look more into this ‘bloody history.’”

“Excuse me, but this is my manor Yaxley, and—“

“You will do as I command Malfoy,” Yaxley said, turning to stare at Lucius. “Or are you proving to be disloyal to our Master?”

“Disloyal?” Lucius said. “You should know, Yaxley, that I am anything but disloyal to our Dark Lord. Where were you at the graveyard when he returned?”

“Where was I?” Yaxley repeated. “I was doing my best to make sure our Lord’s return went smoothly. Though I did not appear, I was still proving my loyalty.”

“You ran,” Lucius said. “You ran away. You thought he was dead, just like the rest of us.”

“No,” Yaxley argued.

“You did! Just say it.”

“I am not dead!” the same high, cold voice said from Yaxley’s lips quickly. Then, normally, “I did not think he was dead, Malfoy. Now keep him here until we are ready.”

Yaxley left the basement and decided to return back to his manor. Returning to his office, Yaxley muttered to himself as he stepped in front of a large, full-body mirror he had the house-elves bring in. He stepped in front of it and said, “My Lord, I do not know where to begin. I thought Malfoy would help me search for the Elder Wand, but he seems to be ineffectual.”

Whether it was due to Yaxley’s devotion to the Dark Lord, or a physical wraith, a strange image appeared in the reflection of the mirror. A transparent, mist-like face that always hovered around Yaxley’s shoulder, whispering orders and words that only Yaxley could hear. “The wandmaker knows…” Yaxley heard.

“I know my Lord, but I do not know how to get the required information,” Yaxley stuttered. “I cannot do it alone.”

“You are not alone…” the voice whispered, hissing in his ear. Yaxley turned around, only to see nothing. Then, a small creaking sound filled the room as the office door slowly opened. There was a thumping noise, as if a body fell to the ground, then Yaxley heard the low, menacing sound of hissing. “She will help you…” the voice said before disappearing.

Yaxley turned around fully to face his new visitor. He didn’t feel like himself. Instead, he felt the same cold sensation he felt as he spoke to Malfoy only minutes prior. He smiled down at the snake and said in a voice that still wasn’t his own, “Nagini, dinner.”

 

Dumbledore’s blue eyes swept over the students before he smiled once more. “But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!”

With the usual deafening scraping noise, the benches were moved back and the hundreds of students began to file out of the Great Hall toward their dormitories. Hermione darted ahead to fulfill her prefect’s duty of shepherding the first years, but Ron remained with Harry. Mostly to talk with his friend, but also to see if he can catch another look at Blaise as the Slytherins past them by. While they were hanging back, both boys ran into Hagrid. “Hagrid,” Ron said, “why were you late to the feast?”

Harry looked between Ron and the half-giant, he didn’t even notice that Hagrid wasn’t in the Great Hall. Perhaps it was because he always felt on-edge due to the staring.

“Hello Ron, Harry,” Hagrid said happily. “I was with Grawp. Los’ track o’ the time. He’s got a new home up in the mountains now, Dumbledore fixed it—nice big cave. He’s much happier than he was in the forest. We were havin’ a good chat.

“Really?” Harry said, taking care not to catch Ron’s eye; the last time he had met Hagrid’s half-brother, his vocabulary had comprised five words, two of which he was unable to pronounce properly.

“Oh yeah, he’s really come on,” Hagrid said proudly. “Yeh’ll be amazed. I’m thinkin’ o’ trainin’ him up as me assistant.”

Ron snorted loudly, but managed to pass it off as a violent sneeze. They were now standing beside the oak front doors.

“Anyway, I’ll see yeh tomorrow, firs’ lesson’s straight after lunch. Come early an’ yeh can say hello ter Buck—I mean, Witherwings!” Raising an arm in cheery farewell, he headed out of the front doors into the darkness.

Harry and Ron looked at each other. Harry could tell that Ron was experiencing the same sinking feeling as himself.

“You’re not taking Care of Magical Creatures, are you?”

Ron shook his head. “And you’re not either, are you?”

Harry shook his head too.

“And Hermione,” Ron said, “she’s not, is she?”

Harry shook his head again. Exactly what Hagrid would say when he realized his three favorite students had given up his subject, he did not like to think. The sinking feeling kept with them as they started to climb the stairs. Harry felt the same staring sensation and looked around, but found nothing. “Anything the matter Harry?” Ron asked.

“No it’s just…” Harry said, still looking around. “I think I saw someone staring at me.”

“Huh, I don’t see anything,” Ron said as he turned his head to look back. He looked into a corner and saw Blaise waiting there calming, standing so only Ron could see him. “Hey listen, I have to go use the loo,” Ron said. “I’ll catch up with you in the common room, alright?”

“Yeah, see ya Ron,” Harry said as he climbed the stairs by himself.

Ron watched as Harry climbed the stairs before turning around and started making his way down. With each step, he became closer to Blaise, and with that, the similar sensation he felt in the joke shop. A smile came to his face as he dick started to harden. He would be blushing, but right now all he thought about was how good the sensation made him feel, and how much he just wanted to be close to Blaise. When he was at the bottom of the stairs, Blaise smiled and walked up to him. “Hello Ron, it’s been awhile,” he said.

“H-Hey,” Ron said, flustered as he looked at the handsome face of Blaise Zabini. Blaise chuckled and moved his hand to Ron’s, his thumb caressing it. “So Ron, how have you been? Have you been enjoying the toy I got for you?”

“Y-Yeah,” Ron admitted. “I um… I use it every night.” He didn’t know why he was admitting to such lewd things, but something about Zabini made him want to talk about it.

“Really?” Blaise smirked. “That’s good. But I don’t want to talk about that.”

“W-What do you want to talk about?” Ron stuttered.

“You,” Blaise stated. “Well, you and me. I’m sure that right now, your dick is very hard right?”

Ron looked down at his pants and couldn’t help but blush as he noticed the very large tent that was showing. Blaise smiled apologetically and said, “Sorry about that, it’s an unconscious effect I have on certain people.”

“Effect?” Ron asked in his dazed, perverted-filled mind. Blaise nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. Then, as if a tide drifting back into the ocean, the perverted atmosphere that surrounded Ron and his mind pulled away, his thoughts becoming lucid, and his dick, thankfully, becoming soft. “What just happened?” he asked.

“Me,” Blaise said. “I think you need to sit Ron, it’s a long story.”

“Okay,” Ron agreed and they both moved towards the end of the corridor where they found a wooden bench. Ron looked at Blaise both confused and expectantly as Blaise bit his lip.

“Well,” Blaise began, “you know that there are some witches and wizards out there that, well, have blood relationships to creatures, correct? Like the Veela.”

“Yeah,” Ron said. “Wait, you’re not a Veela are you?”

Blaise laughed and shook his head. “No that’s ludicrous. The Veela is a female race. Anyway, once in a while the blood of a creature comes fully into a witch and wizard, and they, for lack of a better word, inherit that creature. They can become that creature. Like an Animagus but without all the trouble. And, well I’m one of those wizards. I’ve inherited the blood of a Creature, and now I am that.”

“What?” Ron said, confused. “Inherited? What you mean?”

“I’m an Incubus,” Blaise said. “The reason why you could only think of perverted thoughts around me is because I naturally exhume an odorless scent that causes men I find attracted, specifically men and guys who like blokes, to become slightly perverted as their hormones raise.”

“Wait… Incubus? Exhume? Hormones?” Ron said, completely confused. “I don’t understand.”

“How can I say this simply… my creature is a sexual creature who causes the guys I think are hot to basically get hard and can only think about sex. They can’t think straight, like when we first met in the jokes shop,” Blaise said.

“O-Ohh…” Ron said, “But why can’t I feel anything? And how does this matter to me?”

“Well, normally I cause this effect to everyone until I find my mate,” Blaise said. “Think husband or boyfriend. Since I’m a fully Incubus, I had my mate picked out for me. And that lucky guy is you.” Blaise looked at Ron and blushed. There was no need to tell Ron that there was a second one right now. He wanted the Gryffindor to get comfortable with this information first. No need to dump him with everything and go too fast.

“What? I’m supposed to be your boyfriend?” Ron said shocked.

“Well, yeah, but we’ll move at your pace. I’m not dragon,” Blaise chuckled. “I’m not going to stake you as mine and have sex on the spot. We move at your pace, or not at all.”

“But you do want that, yeah? Sex I mean,” Ron asked, his nerves getting the best at him.

“I’m going to be honest, and say of course Ron,” Blaise said. “But before that, I want to know you, to get to spend as much time with you as I humanly can. And then, when you’re ready, we’ll have sex. Though, many I just want to hug you. I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic,” Blaise chuckled at the end.

Ron nodded, his mouth hung opened as he tried and comprehend everything that happened. Blaise just waited for Ron to say something, anything as he continued to stare at him. Then, finally after what seemed an eternity of silence, Ron said, “Let me get this straight… you’re an Incubus-thingy that causes all gay blokes like me to get hard, and I’m supposed to be your boyfriend?”

Blaise nodded. “Yes, that’s pretty much it. But if it’s too much, we can forget about the Incubus thing for now—“

“What happens if I say no?” Ron asked.

“If you say no, well I’ll be very sad for one,” Blaise said. “Then, instead of spending my time with you, I would have to look for countless guys to fill in the gap you left, knowing that none of them would fill it. And umm… well the same would happen to you. I’m sorry about that. I’m so sorry,” Blaise said honestly. “Each different creature and their mates react differently to a refusal…”

Ron frowned and looked at Blaise, Incubus or not there was no denying that Zabini was very attractive. “But,” he said, trying to push out all arguments. “You’re a Slytherin… and I’m a Gryffindor.”

“Yeah, so?” Blaise said shrugging. “Would it be better if one of us was a Hufflepuff? I can promise you I’m not like any of those prats. …Especially not Crabbe and Goyle, the idiot trolls.” Blaise shivered in disgust just thinking of them.

Ron snickered at that and looked up at Blaise. “Yeah, you’re not as slimy as the other Slytherins. Especially that Malfoy prat.”

“Yeah, he can be a prat,” Blaise chuckled. “You should have seen him when he was younger. Talk about spoiled.” Ron laughed again. “And again,” Blaise said, “I’m no dragon. I’m not here to claim your virginity on the spot Ron.”

Ron blushed at that, which caused Blaise to smile. “So, how about it? Want to be boyfriends at least? I mean, I already gave you a present.”

Ron looked up at Blaise, his cheeks flustered, but he nodded. “Yeah, why not?” he said. “Boyfriends.”

Blaise smiled at Ron and shifted closer. “Thanks,” he said. “You have no idea how happy this makes me.”

“So umm… am I supposed to kiss you now or…” Ron said awkwardly, not knowing how to act.

Blaise shook his head. “No, like I said we move at your pace. Though, if I can at least have a hug, I’ll be happy with that.”

Ron agreed and moved closer to Blaise, he wrapped his arms around the Slytherin and relaxed as Blaise did the same around him. It felt awkward at first, like hugging your mum, but then Ron started to relax and noticed how his head naturally leaned on Blaise’s shoulder. They were about the same height, if not an inch or so difference, but their hug didn’t feel that awkward height difference as they both leaned against the other’s shoulder. “You know,” Blaise said. “I know a man who wouldn’t trust hugs.”

“Why not?” Ron asked.

“It’s just a way to hide your face,” Blaise said. Ron just nodded.

When they parted, Ron didn’t know how to say goodbye, nor did he felt he wanted to as both he and Blaise stood up from the bench. Taking the initiative, Blaise suggested that they should leave, and that they would see each other tomorrow at classes, if not the Great Hall. Ron agreed and just turned to leave, with Blaise turning towards the dungeons. Interestingly enough, Ron did not play with Blaise’s gift that night. Not that he didn’t want to, but because he felt like he didn’t need to. Like any want or desire to use it refuse to enter his mind or body as he simply went to sleep, his thoughts drifting towards Blaise’s hug.

 

The ceiling of the Great Hall was serenely blue and streaked with frail, wispy clouds, just like the square of sky visible through the high mullioned windows. While they tucked into porridge and eggs and bacon, Harry and Ron told Hermione about their embarrassing conversation with Hagrid the previous evening.

“But he can’t really think we’d continue Care of Magical Creatures!” she said, looking distressed. “I mean, when has any of us expressed… you know… any enthusiasm?”

“That’s it, though, innit?” Ron said, swallowing an entire fried egg whole. “We were the ones who made the most effort in classes because we like Hagrid. But he thinks we liked the stupid _subject_. D’you reckon anyone’s going to go on to N.E.W.T.?”

Neither Harry nor Hermione answered; there was no need. They knew perfectly well that nobody in their year would want to continue Care of Magical Creatures. They avoided Hagrid’s eye and returned his cherry wave only halfheartedly when he left the staff table ten minutes later.

Then, Harry started to feel it again. That unnerving sensation that he was being stared at. He hated the feeling and continued to look around for whoever it was that was staring at him. “What’s the matter Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Don’t know, but someone’s staring at me,” Harry said.

“Know who?” Ron asked, both him and Hermione looking around the Great Hall.

“No,” Harry said shaking his head. “No idea. Same thing happened last night too.”

“Probably Malfoy glaring at you,” Ron shrugged. Harry looked towards Malfoy and saw that he and Parkinson were in what seemed like a heated debate. “No, it’s not him,” Harry said. “He and Parkinson are having a row.”

“What about?” Ron wondered.

“Who cares,” Harry shrugged, turning his attention back to his breakfast. Ron agreed and nodded. After they had eaten, they remained in their places, awaiting Professor McGonagall’s descent from the staff table. The distribution of class schedules were more complicated than usual this year, for Professor McGonagall needed first to confirm that everybody had achieved the necessary O.W.L. grades to continue with their chosen N.E.W.T.s.

Hermione was immediately cleared to continue with Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Potions, and shot off to a first-period Ancient Runes class without further ado. Neville was next, and Ron and Harry waited as Neville and Professor McGonagall work with his O.W.L. scores, Professor McGonagall remarking on how she should send a letter to his Gran about her failed Charms O.W.L.s, which Neville gotten an Exceeds Expectations on.

Then, it was Harry’s turn, he may of tuned out Parvati Patil’s conversation with Professor McGonagall as it turned towards Divination, instead thinking about the stares.

“So, Potter, Potter…” Professor McGonagall said, consulting her notes as she turned to Harry. “Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Transfiguration…all fine. I must say, I was pleased with your Transfiguration mark, Potter. Now, why haven’t you applied to continue with Potions? I thought it was your ambition to become an Auror?”

“It was, but you told me I had to get an ‘Outstanding’ in my O.W.L., Professor.”

“And so you did when Professor Snape was teaching the subject, Professor Slughorn, however, is perfectly happy to accept N.E.W.T. students with ‘Exceeds Expectations’ at O.W.L. Do you wish to proceed with Potions?”

“Yes,” Harry said quickly, “but I didn’t buy the books or any ingredients or anything—“

“I’m sure Professor Slughorn will be able to lend you some,” Professor McGonagall said. “Very well, Potter, here is your schedule. Oh, by the way—twenty hopefuls have already put down their names for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I shall pass the list to you in due course and you can fix up trials at your leisure.”

Harry did not know how he survived his first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson with Professor Snape as their teacher. Most of the class was filled with old D.A. members, as well as four Slytherins, Malfoy being one of them much to Harry’s displeasure. He barely scrapped by the class with only getting one detention, but only because Professor Snape attacked him with a powerful spell, and Harry yelled out the incantation for the Shield Charm, instead of casting it nonverbally. The ending result was Snape becoming knocked off-balance, and hitting the desk, much to the class’s, sans the four Slytherin, laughter.

Afterwards, Harry, Hermione, and Ron found themselves walking around during their break, a freedom Hermione told them would be short-lived, as they heard a voice yell out to them. “Harry! Hey, Harry!”

Harry looked around; Jack Sloper, one of the Beaters on last year’s Gryffindor Quidditch team, was hurrying toward him holding a roll of parchment.

“For you,” Sloper panted. “Listen, I heard you’re the new Captain. When’re you holding trials?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Harry said, thinking privately that Sloper would be very lucky to get back on the team. “I’ll let you know.”

“Oh right I was hoping it’d be this weekend—“

But Harry was not listening; he had just recognized the thin, slanting writing on the parchment. Leaving Sloper in mid-sentence, he hurried away with Ron and Hermione, unrolling the parchment as he went.

_Dear Harry,_

_I would like to start our private lessons this Saturday. Kindly come along to my office at 8 p.m. I hope you are enjoying your first day back at school._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_P.S. I enjoy Acid Pops._

“Private lessons, what’s this about?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know, he wouldn’t tell me,” Harry said as he rolled the parchment up again.

“Maybe it’ll be defensive lessons,” Hermione suggested. “In case a Death Eater tries to go after you before the Aurors could get them.”

“Who knows,” Ron said. “But I thought they would stop after Harry, you know, took care of You-Know-Who last year.”

“Yeah…” Harry said, not wanting to remember the Department of Mysteries. The three moved on, and spent the entire break continuing to speculate what Dumbledore will teach Harry during their lessons. At the end of the break, Hermione left for Arithmancy while Harry and Ron grudgingly started Snape’s homework. This turned out to be so complex that in the middle of the break, Ron looked up and needed a distraction, any distraction, from it. “So I think I might have a boyfriend,” he told Harry.

Harry looked up from homework, shocked. “Really?” he gasped. “Well, out with it who is it?”

Ron looked at Harry and debated mentally. “Well… it’s not official yet, least I don’t think it is. All we said was yeah and hugged…”

“So? Still want to know who it is,” Harry said. “Anything to get away from Snape’s homework.”

“Well, alright,” Ron said. “Just listen to me, alright? He’s… he’s a Slytherin. Don’t look at me like that! He’s not a prat like Malfoy or anything. You know Zabini? He was at Fred and George’s joke shop. We met there and started talking. We didn’t see each other till now, and we just started again from where we left off.”

Harry looked at Ron for a bit and said, “And you are sure that he isn’t a prat?”

“Yeah, he didn’t seem like one,” Ron said. “He was nothing but nice to me.”

“Still… he’s a Slytherin,” Harry said. “You don’t mind if I watch him for a bit yeah? Just to make sure?”

“Nah,” Ron said, relieved that Harry didn’t yell at him. “I’ll point him out next time we see him.”

Harry nodded and, with that conversation done and nothing else to use as a distraction, both boys returned back to Snape’s homework. They weren’t even halfway done when Hermione joined them for their after-lunch free period (though she considerably speeded up the process). They had only just finished when the bell rang for the afternoon’s double Potions and they had beat the familiar path down to the dungeon classroom, for their first N.E.W.T.s class with Professor Slughorn. Harry did not know why, but he started to feel the same, invasive staring as he walked down the corridors towards the dungeons, and it only intensified when he walked into the classroom, where he noticed that out of the dozen that proceeded to N.E.W.T. level Potions, four of them were Slytherins, and, of course, one of them was Malfoy, who had a smirk that Harry just did not like.


	6. In Which an Encounter is Held

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay guys! I've been extremely busy. I hope this makes up for it.

Chapter 6

In Which An Encounter is Held

“Is this it?” Yaxley asked as he finished the text he was reading. “Does it end here?”

He was in his office, eyes tired, as he closed the old textbook that was laying on his desk. For the past two weeks he had been reading nothing but ancient tomes, detailing long dead wizards as he researched the bloody history of the Elder Wand. It was currently night, the curtains and shutters were drawn open, letting the moonlight in the office as a gentle breeze brushed by.

“There must be more! There must be!” he ranted. “I’m sorry my Lord, but I cannot find anything else!”

He stood up and walked towards the full-length mirror that recently became a permanent residence in the office. His hair was thinning and turning from grayish-brown to a pure white color. His face, Yaxley noted, was also changing. His eyes were starting to have a sunken-look, his skin tightening around his skull in an array of wrinkles and oldness. His body also seemed smaller, the skin starting to tighten in random places, as others just seem to start waning. He knew what was happening, he suspected it the first time he saw his hair changing, but he didn’t care. In fact he was proud of it! As the wraith over his shoulder would show.

Two weeks ago it was just a whisper of an image, a mist that could be easily lost to the eyes. But now, now it has form, though invisible to everyone bar Yaxley, the wraith’s shape became more defined over the two weeks. It’s features began to show itself, Yaxley could clearly see the head of his Dark Lord, dark shadows for where his eyes and mouth were supposed to be, but yet there was no denying that the wraith that attached itself to Yaxley was his Lord. He felt a ghostly hand stretch towards him, and he turned to the mirror to listen to his Lord. The black abyss of his mouth did not move, yet Yaxley heard perfectly.

“Stop your search for now Yaxley,” the Dark Lord said. “We have other matters to turn to. I must regain my body. Before Dumbledore realize that I am not dead.”

“Yes, My Lord, but there is a problem,” Yaxley said. “Your physical body has been dumped. Scrimgeour had it disposed in the River Lee. It has probably already decomposed, my Lord.”

“I see, then we will need to turn to other means. … Fetch Wormtail. He will be vital for my new resurrection.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Two hours later, the office doors opened, and a short, stout man poked his head through, black eyes shifting nervously. Wormtail shifted into the room, his eyes fearfully staring at Yaxley as a man cloaked in a Death Eater robe pushed him in, the man falling onto his silver hand. “We found him hiding in the gutters,” the Death Eater said.

“I-I-I swear, I wasn’t hiding!” Wormtail said immediately. “I swear I—“

“Enough, I don’t care about your crying,” Yaxley snarled. “Our Lord needs you.”

“O-Our Lord?” Wormtail asked, his skin turning paler as he looked up at Yaxley. “W-What do you mean?”

Yaxley was quiet. He walked towards the mirror again and closed his eyes, as if listening to something Wormtail could not see. He stood there, still as a statue as he faced the mirror. Wormtail worried the entire time, his body trembling as his beady eyes kept shifting around the office. After a while, Wormtail felt a cold sweat, it was as if something extremely cold, and invisible was touching his very spine.

Yaxley turned swiftly towards Yaxley, and with a cold, sinister smirk that did not fit his face, the gentleman said, “Our Lord has a role for you, rat. You have already helped him once with his resurrection, and you will help him again.”

“B-But Yaxley, our Lord is gone—“

His silver hand started acting on its own, and Wormtail The hand started to vibrate violently as it jerked towards his throat. Wormtail tried to fight against it, but the silver hand continued to disobey its owner, grabbing onto his throat. Wormtail continued to struggle as he choked.

“I am not gone, Pettigrew,” Yaxley said, his voice turning high and cold. “You will be punished for having little faith in me, but for now I require your help.”

“Y-Yes my Lord,” Wormtail whimpered.

Yaxley smirked coldly. “Good. I need you to dig up Tom Riddle’s bones. Bring them here.”

Wormtail whimpered and nodded. He left the office, and Yaxley looked back at the mirror. “My Lord… what will you do with a muggle’s bones?”

“There is a potion,” Voldemort explained. “The bones are an important ingredient.”

“Don’t you also need Harry Potter’s blood, my Lord?” Yaxley asked.

“Why should I? We are already connected Yaxley,” Voldemort said. “His blood is already in me. Though I am but a wraith now, I still hold his blood.”

Yaxley nodded. “Will this potion make you more powerful than before?”

“It will Yaxley,” Voldemort said. “When this is all done, I will be back, and you will be the main cause.”

Yaxley felt pride swell through his body. “Thank you, My Lord. I will do anything I am able to, to help your return.”

 

Harry paced in the dormitory. The first week of classes was over. In his trunk, hidden deep within his clothes, was a vial of Felix Felicis, which he won from his first Potions class with Professor Slughorn. The secret to his success, was a book owned by a previous student named the Half-Blood Prince. The Prince, whoever he was, had written different instructions in the textbook, and with the Prince’s help Harry soon began to succeed in class. By his fourth lesson, Professor Slughorn began praising Harry for his abilities, saying that he had rarely taught anyone so talented. Neither Ron nor Hermione were delighted by this. He had offered to share his book with both of them. Ron had more difficulty deciphering the handwriting than Harry did, and couldn’t keep asking Harry to read aloud or it might look suspicious. Hermione, meanwhile, was resolutely plowing on with what she called the “official” instructions, but becoming increasingly bad-tempered as they yielded poorer results than the Prince’s.

Harry wondered about the identity of the Half-Blood Prince as he made his way towards Dumbledore’s office. It was ten to eight, and Harry did not wanted to be late for… whatever the lessons with Dumbledore were going to be. As he turned a corner, he held in his scoff as he noticed Draco Malfoy. They were the only two in the corridor, and thankfully for Harry, it seemed that Malfoy did not notice him. Hopefully, if Malfoy would turn into another corridor, Harry wouldn’t have to deal with him. But it seemed like luck was not on Harry’s side, for as he took a step, Malfoy’s head whipped towards him, a weird smirk appearing on his face.

It was then that Harry was able to notice more changes about Malfoy. For not only was his body noticeably muscular now, but his platinum blonde hair was on the short side, and Harry noticed that Malfoy’s ears were now tipped. In fact they looked like knifes to Harry, so he decided to use them as an insult. “What do you want knife-ears?” he said.

“Knife-ears? Is that the best you can do, _Potter_?” Malfoy purred as he started strutting towards Harry.

Harry felt paralyzed. He couldn’t move a muscle as he just watched Malfoy get closer to him. A heat started to burn inside him, tiny embers sparking in his body with each step Malfoy took towards him. His cheeks started to blush from embarrassment when Malfoy finally stopped right in front of him. Harry had to crane his neck to see Malfoy’s face. Even though the Slytherin was always taller than him, Harry realized that somehow, Malfoy had grown at least half a foot. Harry was eye-leveled to Malfoy’s chest. The blush deepened as he thought about Draco Malfoy’s chest, and he had to shake those thoughts away, glaring at the boy. “What do you want Malfoy? I’m busy.”

“What do I want? Why do you want to know Potter? Besides, you called me, remember?” Malfoy smirked.

“Sod off,” Harry said, trying to push past Malfoy. Malfoy didn’t budge, but instead leaned down to Harry, and whispered, “Just remember Harry Potter, though you’ll deny it now, you belong to me.” And with that, he did something that Harry couldn’t predict. He bit Harry’s ear. Hard.

Harry yelled in pain and pulled out his wand with one hand while pushing Malfoy away with the other. “What you on about freak?” he snarled as he aimed his wand at Malfoy. “Do that one more time, and I swear I’ll—“

“See you Harry,” Malfoy said as he walked away, seemingly unafraid of Harry’s wand as the Gryffindor kept his wand trained on the Slytherin.

Harry watched Malfoy go, his face starting to hurt from his hard glaring. When the prick was gone, Harry’s hand shot to his ear where the sod bit. There was no blood, no holes, but it still hurt like hell. Harry was forced to ignore it, hoping that there wasn’t any noticeable mark, and forced Malfoy to the back of his mind as he made his way towards Dumbledore’s office.

“Acid Pops,” Harry told the gargoyle that guarded the spiraling staircase. He walked up the staircase to the door with the brass knocker that lead to Dumbledore’s office.

He knocked.

“Come in,” Dumbledore’s voice said.

“Good evening sir,” Harry said, walking into the headmaster’s office.

“Ah, good evening, Harry. Sit down,” Dumbledore said, smiling. “I hope you’ve had an enjoyable first week back at school?”

“Yes, thanks, sir,” Harry said.

“You must have been busy, a detention under your belt already?”

“Er,” Harry began awkwardly, but Dumbledore did not look too stern.

“I have arranged with Professor Snape that you will do your detention next Saturday instead.”

“Right,” Harry said, who had more pressing matters on his mind than Snape’s detention, and now looked around surreptitiously for some indication of what Dumbledore was planning to do with him this evening. He noticed that Dumbledore’s right hand seemed shriveled, almost dead-like, and on his hand was a ring Harry had never noticed.

“So Harry,” Dumbledore said in a businesslike voice. “You have been wondering, I am sure, what I have planned for you during these—for want a better word—lessons?”

“Yes sir,” Harry said.”

“Well, I have decided that it is time, now that you know what prompted Lord Voldemort to try and kill you fifteen years ago, for you to be given certain information.”

“Sir? But… Voldemort is dead,” Harry said.

Yes,” Dumbledore said with a sigh. “It would appear so, that Lord Voldemort is in fact dead. At least, his body.”

“What do you mean, sir?” Harry asked.

“Let us go back to the beginning of this summer Harry, for a quick explanation. I am sorry my dear boy, but our work is far from done. In the Ministry of Magic, Voldemort’s body did in fact die after your miraculous Stunner that had hit his heart. Unfortunately, though I wish that I am wrong, it seems that while the body had died, the soul lived on.”

“Soul?”

“Do you remember what happened your first year Harry? After your encounter with Professor Quirrell and Voldemort?” Dumbledore asked.

“Bits yeah,” Harry said. “There was this thing that came out of Quirrell after he tried to grab me.”

“That thing, as we know now, was Lord Voldemort. More precisely, his soul and spirit. Voldemort was nothing more than a wraith then, and I am afraid that he is nothing more than a wraith now. Wandering this earth, never able to fully die,” Dumbledore explained.

“But how can that be, sir?” Harry asked.

“That, is what we are going to figure out, Harry,” Dumbledore said. “From this point forth, we shall be leaving the firm foundation of fact and journeying together through the murky marshes of memory into thickets of wildest guesswork. From here on in, Harry, I may be as woefully wrong as Humphrey Belcher, who believed the time was ripe for a cheese cauldron.”

“But you think you’re right?” Harry asked.

“Naturally, I do, but as I have already proven to you, I make mistakes like the next man. In fact, being—forgive me—rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger.”

“Sir,” Harry said tentatively, “how will any of this go back to Voldemort being alive? Will it help me… survive?”

“It has a very great deal with that,” Dumbledore said. “Hopefully at the end of all this, we will both be wiser to how Lord Voldemort survived your Stunner. And I certainly hope that it will help you to survive.”

Dumbledore got to his feet and walked around the desk, past Harry, who turned eagerly in his seat to watch Dumbledore straightened up, he was holding a familiar shallow stone basin etched with odd markings around its rim. He placed the Pensieve on the desk in front of Harry.

“This time, you enter the Pensieve with me …and, even more unusually, with permission.”

“Where are we going, sir?”

“For a trip down Bob Ogden’s memory lane,” Dumbledore said.

 

Ron and Blaise were relaxing against each other. “So, how was your first week, Ron?” Blaise asked.

It was late at night, and they both decided to meet up outside. The sky was partly cloudy and the stars and moon were shining down the sleeping castle as the two boys leaned against each other, sitting on the grass. “It was alright,” Ron said shrugging. “Classes’ are hard. Having us do spells without saying? Who they think we are?”

N.E.W.T. students,” Blaise said chuckling. He looked at Ron and sat up so he could wrap his arm comfortably around his waist. “Besides classes, how have you been Ron?” he asked.

“Fine,” Ron shrugged. “Though, may be a bit jealous with Harry.”

“Oh? What happened?” Blaise asked.

“You know how Harry and me got into Potions, even though we only got ‘Exceeds Expectations’? Well we didn’t have any of the stuff, so Slughorn let us borrow textbooks from him. There were only two left so I got the good one first, leaving Harry the old one. But the one Harry got? Someone wrote in it! The guy even scratched out what was there before and wrote over it! And Harry followed those instructions and got potions better than Hermione’s!” Ron said.

“So that’s how he got the Felix Felicis…” Blaise said thoughtfully. “Draco was ranting that Harry won so easily.”

“Really?” Ron asked. Blaise nodded.

“He seems to be staring a lot at Harry, recently,” Blaise said with a knowing smirk.

Really? Weird git,” Ron muttered. Blaise chuckled. “What so funny?”

“Nothing Ronnie, it’s just that I know why Draco has a liking for Harry, besides the obvious fact that he is hot.”

“Oi!”

“I’m an Incubus, sorry,” Blaise shrugged. “Besides, you know only you have my fullest attention.”

Ron blushed as Blaise came closer to him, “Don’t worry, I’ll won’t do anything Ron, I just like being close to you.” Blaise took a hold of Ron’s shoulder and pulled him down, both boys lying on the grass. Ron just nodded, liking the feeling of Blaise’s body practically on top of him.

“So, why does he like Harry?” Ron asked.

“Well,” Blaise said. “You have to keep this a secret. Can you do this for me Ron?”

“Yeah, ‘course I can,” Ron said.

Both boys rolled onto their sides, looking at each other. “Well, Draco’s like me in a way,” Blaise said. “He’s not a sexy Incubus like me, he’s worst. He’s a Dragon. Well, to be more specifically a Drogo.”

“What?” Ron said, “Drogos? I thought they all died out!”

“Well, apparently Draco’s one of them,” Blaise shrugged. “It’s obvious, I mean with his physical change and everything. He even has elf ears!”

Ron laughed at that. Blaise smiled and touched Ron’s cheek. “Did I ever tell you I love your hair? It looks like a deep orange… and it’s soft,” Blaise added as he ran his hand through Ron’s hair. Ron smiled and closed his eyes, humming softly.

“And, there’s one more thing,” Blaise said softly. “I think Harry might be Draco’s mate. It would make sense with his staring.”

Ron nodded but grimaced. “I hope not, I mean I don’t want Harry with a prick like that. I want my friend to be happy.”

Blaise nodded, “Yeah… I think you’re right. The way Draco is now, he’s a prick. Nothing about it. But what if he changes?”

“Then maybe, I don’t know…” Ron shrugged. “Wait, if they are mates, does that mean that if they’re not together Harry’ll be unhappy?”

“I’m not sure,” Blaise said. “From what I know, all creature inheritance and their mating are all different. With Incubuses, we would have become unhappy if we didn’t find each other. I don’t know how dragons are.”

Mating for Dragons, more particularly Drogos differs greatly from Incubuses. In the past, their mates always accepted them eagerly and readily, so because of that it is unknown, but generally agreed upon, that both Drogo and mate will always want each other, thus there is no need for unhappiness for the two if they don’t mate. It is not possible for Drogo and their submissive to reject each other. In fact, if, for whatever reason, the submissive reject the Dominant Drogo, it is entirely possible for the submissive to face no consequences, baring the obvious anger of their Dominant. It is also common for the submissive to be in previous relationships that were fulfilling both sexually and emotionally before their Dominant Drogo come to get them, sweeping them off their feet and ravishing them sexually until they couldn’t stand or think of anyone else. Truly, Drogos are selfish, dominant, stubborn creatures.

“So it could be worst?” Ron frowned.

“Could be, but I’m sure Harry will be fine,” Blaise smiled. Ron nodded and moved closer to Blaise’s body. They looked at each other and smiled. “Think we should head back? It’s getting late?”

“Yeah, it’s getting cold,” Ron nodded. Blaise smirked and said, “I could make you feel warm.”

Ron blushed and shook his head. “N-No thanks Blaise.”

Blaise laughed helped Ron to his feet. “Only kidding Ron. Come on, let’s go.”

They returned back inside the castle, and parted for the night, Ron missing the heat from Blaise’s body only a couple of minutes after they left. He was forced to shove it to the back of his mind as he made his way back towards Gryffindor Tower. An hour later, Harry returned and told Ron and Hermione about Dumbledore’s lessons.

“Hold on, you’re saying that You-Know-Who isn’t dead?” Ron asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “That’s what Dumbledore believes.”

“But how could he have survived!?” Ron asked. “He got a Stunner to the heart!”

“I know,” Harry frowned. He leaned back in the armchair and Ron and Hermione waited for him to talk.

He didn’t say anything, except excusing himself for bed. Harry left, and Ron and Hermione just shared a look. “Well, go talk to him!” Hermione said.

Ron shrugged and begun to follow Harry into the boy’s dormitory. He found Harry dressing into his pajamas and asked, “Harry, you okay mate?”

“Yeah, why you asking?” Harry asked, his voice sounding far off. Ron frowned.

“Because you’re not okay,” Ron said. “Come on mate, we practically sleep in the same bed during summer.”

Harry looked up at Ron and blushed. “Yeah, but… I don’t know. It’s Malfoy.”

“Malfoy?”

“Yeah something he did… it threw me off,” Harry admitted.

Ron frowned, remembering what Blaise had told him. Harry’s Malfoy’s mate. There was no way Ron would let that happen. He sat down on his bed as Harry sat on his, he asked, “Harry, what did Malfoy do?” Barely hiding his malice for the Slytherin.

Harry looked at him and frowned. “It was weird, he was just standing in the corridor, like he was waiting for me. Then the freak told me I was his and then bit me. Hard!”

“What!?”

“My ear, look,” Harry said, moving his hair so Ron could clearly see his left ear, which Malfoy bit. Ron moved closer and saw teeth marks on Harry’s earlobe. “That’s sick,” he grimaced. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” Harry frowned. “During the entire lesson, I kept bringing my hand to my ear.”

“I can see why,” Ron frowned. “He bit you hours ago and it’s still there.”

“Damn knife-ear,” Harry growled.

“Knife ear?” Ron chuckled.

“Yeah, did you look at him? His ears are pointed,” Harry said, and to emphasize his brought his hands to his ears and mimicked Draco’s. Ron couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Just forget about him Harry,” Ron said. “I’m sure Malfoy’s nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, yeah you’re right,” Harry nodded. He smiled at Ron. “Thanks. Night Ron.”

“Night, Harry,” Ron said watching Harry climb into his bed. Ron dressed, and decided to fall asleep as well.

 

“Draco, repeat that,” Blaise said. They were sitting in two armchairs in the Slytherin common room. Draco was relaxed as he sat, while Blaise was in a state of shock. Next to them, the fireplace burned a brilliant emerald, a fire that Draco started, and the atmosphere of the room was a brief tense silence.

“I bit my mate, marking him as mine,” Draco stated, as if discussing the weather.

“Are you insane, you stupid lizard?” Blaise bellowed. The room’s atmosphere turned icy cold as everyone seemed to turn their attention to them. The other Slytherins seemed to forget what they were doing, instead fearfully watching Draco, knowing that their Prince was angry, but all too afraid to harm the one who cause that. Pansy Parkinson skirted around the edge of the room, waiting for a chance to intercept, to get close to Draco as Crabbe and Goyle, the two dumb trolls, stood guard from a safe distance.

Draco just stared at Blaise, his expression masked. Blaise did not fault, his disappointment and disgust clear on his face. No one spoke. The Slytherins waiting, wondering who will budge first. The Ice Prince, or his challenger. Then, as if the roar of an ancient being shook the entire common room, Draco stood up and glared down at Blaise. “Say that again,” he demanded, steam starting to appear around his feet. Blaise stood his place, his glare matching Draco’s.

“You,” Blaise said, “are insane.”

Draco growled in irritation before someone jumped in. “Don’t talk to Draco like that!”

“Sod off Parkinson,” Blaise said. “That idiot is going to scare off his mate before he even realizes it!”

“Do you think I care?” Parkinson said. “There is no way he’ll scare me aw—“

“You are not my mate,” Draco stated plainly. He moved to push her out of the way, but Parkinson jumped out of the way. She frowned at Draco.

“There’s no way you mean that Draco,” she said.

“Parkinson, move.” Blaise stated. He pushed Parkinson out of the way, and stepped up towards Draco. “Look at me Draco. If you don’t change your ways starting right now, then there is no way that Harry Potter will love you. I will make sure he doesn’t.”

“And what are you going to do? Use your Incubus powers on him?” Draco smirked.

“I need two mates to keep me stable,” Blaise said seriously. “But that doesn’t mean I need to stop at two.”

“What you on about Zabini?” Draco growled.

Blaise took a deep breath and took a step back as Draco glared down at him. He tried to match Draco’s glare, but knew that if they came to fighting, Draco would dominate him in a second. Still he held his stand, not only for his mates’ future happiness, but Harry’s. Ron loves Harry and worries for him, so Blaise needs to do everything he could to make sure Potter is safe and happy. “I mean… if you continue being the controlling bitch that you are right now, then I will make Harry mine.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Draco growled. Blaise felt his skin starting to heat up as Draco glared at him, his skin starting to look metallic and his teeth sharpening. Blaise tried his best to keep his guard. “If I see you near my mate, Zabini, I swear I will burn you alive. Potter is _mine_. He’s my mate!”

“See! That’s what I’m talking about Malfoy,” Blaise spat. “You’re acting like a child. You’re treating Harry like a toy, not a person.”

“He’s my mate!” Draco repeated again.

“He’s a damn person!” Blaise yelled. “And you’ll never earn his love if you keep on like this.”

Angry, Blaise left the common room in a huff, a spell of curses leaving his lips as his olive skin flared with fury. Draco just stood there, equally furious. He looked around at the Slytherins and yelled, “The hell you all are looking for? Go away!”

 

Harry felt odd the following morning. His ear still hurt, and when he looked in the bathroom mirror he saw the bite mark was still there, the indented hole almost penetrating his earlobe. “What the hell did Malfoy do?” he growled in irritation.

“Anything the matter Harry?” a deep Irish brogue asked. Harry turned around and saw Seamus Finnigan. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, coming straight out of the sixth year Gryffindor showers. Harry blushed as he found himself staring at Seamus. His pale skin was still wet and Harry noticed that under his clothes and robes, Seamus hid a slightly muscular and burly body that was patted with body hair. Harry’s lips went dry as he continued to look. “Harry, you okay?” Seamus asked, snapping Harry out of his thoughts. Harry nodded and looked up at Seamus, noticing that he was smirking.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” Harry said.

“You sure? Cause you were looking at your ear a lot,” Seamus said. “I don’t think you moved the entire time I was showering.”

“Oh,” Harry blushed. Seamus took a step closer, ignoring Harry’s reddening face, and looked at Harry’s ear. “Is that a hole?” he asked. “Harry, you thinking of getting an earring?” he smirked.

“Uhh right, yeah right I am,” Harry lied. Seamus chuckled. “Cool, I think you’ll look very nice with one. See ya Harry, Dean’s waiting for me.” And with a smirk and wink Seamus left the boy’s bathroom, leaving a blushing, heart-racing Harry.

“Earring… huh.”


	7. Tryouts and Dates are Held

Chapter 7

Tryouts and a Date are Held

Hermione was right. The sixth years’ free periods were not the hours of blissful relaxation Ron and Harry had anticipated, but times in which to attempt to keep up with the ever increasing amount of homework the they were being set. Not only were they studying as though they had exams every day, but the lessons themselves had become more demanding than ever before. (Not to mention that much to Harry’s dismay, his dreams of the boy seemed to completely stop. He hoped that it was because the boy was equally as busy, or maybe it was because the boy was a dream all along.) Harry barely understood half of what Professor McGonagall said to them these days; even Hermione had had to ask her to repeat instructions once or twice. Incredibly, and to Hermione’s increasing resentment, Harry’s best subject had suddenly become Potions, thanks to the Half-Blood Prince. He was starting to understand what he was doing, following the Prince’s instructions.

Non-Verbal spells were the expected for most of his classes. Harry frequently looked over at his classmates in the common room or at mealtimes to see them purple in the face. Though, he noticed, and blushed at, that whenever he looked over at Seamus, the Irish boy stopped whatever it was that he was doing to wink and smile at Harry. Every time he saw Seamus’ smirk, Harry couldn’t help but remember their conversation in the showers, which caused his hand to unconsciously go to his ear, where there was still a damn indentation from Malfoy. He tried getting it looked at by Madam Pomfrey, but she couldn’t find anything wrong with it, or any way to fix it.

One time during meals, Harry finished blushed at Seamus’ smile and looked at Hermione and Ron. “So…err,” he said suddenly. “You know that damn thing that Malfoy gave me?”

“You mean the bite?” Ron asked, Hermione looking at the two. She heard about the bite from Harry, and had to be argued and persuaded to not go to Dumbledore or McGonagall about it.

“Yeah… since Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix it, what do you guys think of me hiding it… with an earring or something?”

Hermione shrugged, “Seems like a good idea Harry, though really I really think that you should tell Professor McGonagall about it.”

Harry shook his head, “It isn’t worth it,” he said. “Besides, I don’t think she’ll believe me anyways.”

“But still…”

“Yeah I think an earring’s a great idea Harry,” Ron interrupted. “Is it going to be like the one Bill has?”

“The fang? Maybe… I don’t know,” Harry shrugged. “I’m gay, I don’t know shit about jewelry.”

Hermione snorted while Ron chuckled. “But seriously Harry,” Hermione said, “if you think it’ll help, you should get one when we got to Hogsmeade. I think there’s a shop there…” She said, looking at Ron.

“Why you looking at me? You think I’ll know?”

“Useless,” Hermione sighed shaking her head, before going back to her breakfast.

One result of their enormous workload and the frantic hours of practicing nonverbal spells was that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had so far been unable to find time to go and visit Hagrid. He had stopped coming to meals at the staff table, an ominous sign, and on the few occasions when they had passed him in the corridors or out in the grounds, he had mysteriously failed to notice them or hear their greetings.

“We’ve got to go and explain,” Hermione said, looking up at Hagrid’s huge empty chair at the staff table the following Saturday at breakfast.

“We’ve got Quidditch tryouts this morning!” Ron said. “And we’re supposed to be practicing that Aquamenti Charm from Flitwick! Anyway, explain what? How are we going to tell him we hated his stupid subject?”

“We didn’t hate it!” Hermione said.

“Speak for yourself, I haven’t forgotten the skrewts,” Ron said darkly. “And I’m telling you now, we’ve had a narrow escape. You didn’t hear him going on about his gormless brother—“

“Harry?” Seamus said from behind them. The three of them turned around to see Seamus standing in front of Harry, shifting on his toes.

“Yeah Seamus?” Harry asked.

Seamus looked at Ron and Hermione and bit his lip. “Think we can… go talk in private for a sec? There err, something I want to ask ya.”

Harry nodded. “Sure, alright.” He turned back towards Hermione and Ron and said, “We’ll do down after Quidditch, alright?”

“Yeah, sure,” Hermione nodded.

Harry smiled and stood up from the table. He followed Seamus away from the Gryffindor Table towards the doors. He felt eyes staring at him, but for some reason it didn’t matter to him. He was too focused on the strange nervousness that grew inside him. Seamus opened the door and Harry followed him into the entrance hall. Seamus stopped, relieved to see that they were alone, and turned around to Harry. “Harry,” he began. “Well… I’m not good at things like this, so I’ll keep it short. I think you’re really hot Harry, and you want to go out with me?”

Both he and Harry were blushing. Harry looked at him, and couldn’t help but smile as a silly thought came in his head. “You sure this isn’t you trying to get onto the team?” he joked.

“God no Harry,” Seamus said. “I wouldn’t dare try to shag up with the cute Captain just to get on the team.” He took a step closer and whispered, “I would rather show him my extraordinary skills. So what do you say? Wanna go out with me?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “Yeah I’d like that,”

Seamus gave Harry a radiant smile and cheered. “Alright! Then how about after Quidditch practice we hang out?”

“Yeah I’d love that!” Harry smiled, but then remembered. “Ohh… Ron, Hermione and I were going to visit Hagrid. …”

“Then after that,” Seamus said. “Some alone time with me and you so we can know each other better.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, alright. We’ll meet in the common room.”

“Right,” Seamus said. They both couldn’t help but grin like idiots as they stared at each other.

“I uh… think we should probably go back in the Great Hall,” Harry giggled after a couple of minutes of them staring at each other. Seamus chuckled and nodded. They’ve turned back and walked into the Great Hall and returned to their seats, promising to see each other at Quidditch Pratice.

“So what did Seamus want?” Ron asked.

“He uhh asked me out,” Harry said.

“What—“

“Really—?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded smiling. “And I said yes.”

 

“What do you think Finnigan wants with my mate?” Draco grumbled as he watched his mate go off with the Irish Gryffindor.

“Who knows,” Blaise chuckled, shifting his eyes from his mates to see Harry and Finnigan go off out of the Great Hall. “How do you think is the best way to tell Ron, Neville’s also my mate?” Blaise mused.

“I don’t care about that, that idiot is alone with my mate!” Draco growled, snarling at the now closed doors. “I swear if he dares touches a hair on my mate—“

“You’ll do what? Kill him? Singe him to a crisp?” Blaise chuckled. “You’re not mated to him yet Draco, hell you’re not even courting or dating him! He doesn’t even know that he’s unfortunately your mate. The boy’s free to do whatever he wants.”

Draco glared at him. “He is mine. I won’t let anyone else have him.”

Blaise sighed, “And that is the attitude problem I am talking about.” He shook his head and looked at Draco. “What is Harry’s favorite color? Or how about Harry’s favorite food? Desert? What does he do when he’s stressed out or annoyed?”

“How do you expect me know those things Zabini? And who cares what he does when he’s stressed or annoyed! He has me to deal with it,” Draco said. “Besides, like you know your mate’s favorites.”

Blaise gave Draco a cold, hard stare before saying, “Ron’s favorite color is bright orange after his favorite Quidditch team the Chudley Cannons. His favorite food is anything his mother cooks, and whenever he is stressed, Ron has a tendency to string out a series of curse words as his face turns almost as red as he does. His greatest fear is also spiders, and his current ambition is to be an Auror.”

Draco looked at Blaise, confused. “What’s your point? Why should I care about such trivial things about my mate? He should love me as our worlds revolve around each other.”

“Keep thinking like that, and there’ll won’t be a world for you to revolve,” Blaise said. The doors to the Great Hall opened again, and the two Slytherins looked to see Harry and Seamus returning, both smiling madly. “See that? Harry’s first date is probably all set. Shame it’ll won’t be with you.”

“That son of a bitch!” Draco growled, slamming a fist on the table. “I swear I’ll—“

“Before you say anything else Draco,” Blaise said. “Why don’t you come with me?”

“Where?”

“Quidditch tryouts,” Blaise said simply. “Going to watch Ron and Harry.”

“His tryouts are today!?” Draco asked, shocked. “Why am I only hearing this now?”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly a secret,” Blaise chuckled. “That, and Ron invited me personally. Come on, I want to get some good seats.” Blaise stood up and waited for Draco. The two friends walked silently away from the Slytherin Table and out of the Great Hall. “Maybe you should give him a present,” Blaise said. “Something worthwhile, not some flashy or expensive jewelry. Something that shows that you actually care for Harry as a human being, rather than a very cute shag.” When he saw the look Draco was giving him, Blaise just chuckled and shook his head.

 

It seems that half of Gryffindor House turned up for the tryouts, from first years who were nervously clutching a selection of the dreadful old school brooms, to seventh years who towered over the rest, and Harry, looking coolly intimidating. The later included a large, wiry-haired boy Harry recognized immediately from the Hogwarts Express.

“We met on the train in old Sluggy’s compartment,” he said confidently, stepping out of the crowd to shake Harry’s hand. “Cormac McLaggen, Keeper.”

“You didn’t try out last year, did you?” Harry asked, taking note of the breadth of McLaggen and thinking that he would probably block all three goal hoops without even moving.

“I was in the hospital wing when they held the trials,” McLaggen said, with something of a swagger. “Ate a pound of doxy eggs for a bet.”

“Right.” Harry said shortly. “Well …if you wait over there…”

He pointed over to the edge of the pitch, close to where Hermione was sitting. He thought he saw a flicker of annoyance pass over McLaggen’s face and wondered wheter McLaggen expected preferential treatment because they were both “old Sluggy’s” favorites. Harry looked around the pitch before moving onto the next group, seeing that Blaise was there, he guessed to cheer on Ron, and, surprisingly enough, a begrudgingly looking Malfoy, who for some reason kept staring at him.

He walked over to Ron and pointed them out. “Wonder why Malfoy’s here,” he said. Just staring at the boy made Harry feel irritated, his ear starting to flame.

“Blaise probably forced him to come with,” Ron said. “Didn’t want to be the only Slytherin here.”

“I wish he would stop staring at us, makes me feel anxious,” Harry frowned.

“What, like he’s going to bite you?” Ron joked. Harry shot him a look. “Right, sorry, well I’m sure Blaise’ll make sure the prat behaves.”

 

“They’re talking about us,” Draco said as he watched Ron and Harry separate. “I just know it.”

“Well, you are staring at him again,” Blaise shrugged. He watched as Harry had the entire mob of students split into groups of ten. The first group was entirely of first years, and Blaise laughed at that. “It seems everyone’s here to try and get on Harry’s team,” he laughed as the first years failed miserably to get off the ground. He looked at Draco and scoffed. “Seriously, you look like you’re about to burn the entire pitch down if someone touches Harry.”

Draco threw him a glare but stayed quiet. The second group was made entirely of giggling girls and Blaise frowned. “Hey, see that girl over there? The one with the curly brown hair? I’m positive she looks familiar.”

“Maybe she was the reason you decided to like guys,” Draco grumbled as he continued to stare at Harry. “Why is that girl keep looking at my Potter?” he asked, annoyed.

Blaise kept quiet until he made a sound of acknowledgment. “I remember! Romilda Vane! That’s her name! Ron was telling me about her, she kept annoying Ginny with questions about Harry.”

“Why was she asking questions about my Potter?” Draco growled. His fists tightened and Blaise saw a show of silver on Draco’s skin. His lips snarled as his teeth started to sharpen.

“Not here, not here,” Blaise said suddenly. “If you change here you’ll ruin Harry’s tryouts!” Draco glared at Blaise but remained in his seat. Blaise let a sigh of relief out when he saw Draco changing back into his normal, human form. They continued to watch as the groups continued to fly around the ring once before landing. They’ve watched for two hours, making comments here and there to themselves as the tryouts went on. At the end of the two hours, it seemed like Harry had found his three Chasers. “That’s Ginny Weasley,” Blaise pointed out chuckling. “She had a crush on Harry when she was eleven, Ron told me that. Don’t know if she still does… oh well, she wasn’t giving him strange looks during the tryouts, so maybe she got over it.”

“So,” Draco said slowly as he considered if he should get angry or not over a childhood crush, “she has no interest in Harry?”

“As far as I know,” Blaise said.

 

“Sorry Seamus,” Harry said to the Irish boy as he walked up to Harry. “But They all got more scores than you. …Are you mad?”

“Not really…” Seamus said. “It’s awful that I can’t hang out with you in the showers after games, that was the only reason I tried out!” he laughed.

Harry blushed, but couldn’t help but laugh also. “Well, for what it’s worth you did brilliantly! You and Dean got the same number of scores.”

“Yeah, but I got the Captain,” Seamus winked. He looked at Dean, who was waiting for him. “I’ll be at the stands with Dean. See ya Harry.”

“Bye Seamus!” Harry said a bit too excitedly, earning snickers from the students around him. He turned around and glared at them. “What do you think you’re laughing at? Beaters, get in the air!”

 

“Wonder why they aren’t leaving,” Blaise said as he looked around the pitch. The stadium seemed to slowly become more and more crowded with rejected players, as well as other students coming down from a lengthy breakfast.

“It’s Potter,” Draco said. “Of course he’s gathering a crowd.” Draco kept glaring not at Harry, but at Seamus. The damn Irish Gryffindor thinks he could get away with his Harry?

Blaise looked at Draco irritated, and said, “You know, I can tell you how to get Harry.”

“How?” Draco said quickly, his head snapping from Seamus to Blaise.

“Well, first you have to bury the hatchet,” Blaise said. “You and Harry have a… complicated history. He won’t care that he’s your mate. And if you start off with telling him he’s the boy in your dreams, well that’ll just scare him away even more.”

“So what are you telling me to do?” Draco asked.

“Be his friend, you idiot,” Blaise said. “Be his friend then court him. I thought Malfoys like to show off. Show Harry exactly why you’re a better boyfriend then Finnigan.”

“I won’t allow Harry to even kiss Finnigan!” Draco snarled.

“Well, it looks like you have some time with that,” Blaise said chuckling. “Looks like they’re just starting to flirt.”

Draco glared at Blaise and stood up quickly. “I’m leaving,” he said.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going into the woods. My dragon needs to get out… … and I don’t want to ruin my mate’s tryouts,” Draco said simply.

Blaise nodded “Okay,” he said.

“Zabini, do something for me,” Draco said.

“What?”

“Tell my ma—tell Harry that I want to bury the hatchet,” Draco commanded.

“He would prefer it to come from you, but okay,” Blaise nodded.

Draco gave Harry one more look before leaving the stadium. He turned and started making his way towards the Forbidden Forest. His inner Drogo wanted to fight, wanted to tear every single person who would dare look at Harry apart and bring the small brunet for himself. Draco barely made it into the forest where he gave out a fearsome roar. He fell onto all fours and finally let himself transform, his human conscious fading to the background as pure instinct and Drago behaviors took over. It has been too long since he transformed. He needed to run, needed to hunt. He needed to show his dominance in any way he could. Draco stretched his body, feeling more relaxed now that he was finally able to express his desires. He looked around, his silver, metallic scales shining in the morning sunlight, and then decided, just as his human form hold dominance over Slytherin House, his Drogo form will control this forest.

It would be an easy task, all he had to do was to make sure his scent covered the forest. Draco walked towards the thickest tree trunk near him and scratched it with his razor-sharp claws, before breathing silver fire onto the scratches, burning them into the tree. The dragon purred in satisfaction. He’ll start here, and continue towards the castle. He began to move towards the next tree and every now and then made the same marking on thick tree trunks as he had with the first. It was then that the saw them. A couple of spiders, half the size of his human form, skittering around. Looking at the competing predator, Draco decided to make quick work of them. He jumped into the air and land in front of them. The spiders shrieked, but Draco easily burned them, only taking a step towards them as silver fire surrounded him. The trees he spared, he did not want to burn down his new territory, but the spiders he left no mercy, taking an interested glee as he heard the spiders’ agonized shrills, their skin quickly burning off their bodies and the muscles melting away to nothingness. All that was left of them was a small, liquid-like pile of ash, still hot to touch, and Draco knew that they would stay that way for the next few days as the corpses eventually cool down.

“Competition,” Draco growled to himself, chuckling as he smirked. Not for long.

 

“You did amazing Ron!” Blaise praised as he caught up with the trio. “Did you see the way McLaggen went the entirely wrong way for the last goal? I knew he was all talk. But you Ron—I’m so happy for you!”

“Thanks Blaise,” Ron blushed. His blush even furthered as Blaise quickly hugged his mate, and kissed his cheek. “I’m serious Ron, I’m so proud of you. Congratulations,” he whispered.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other awkwardly. Harry wondered if this was the first time Hermione officially “met” Blaise. To save both his friends’ embarrassments, Harry cleared his throat. Blaise chuckled as he took a step back. “Sorry Harry, couldn’t help myself,” he said.

“R-Right,” Harry said. He looked over at Hermione, who was still looking at Blaise awkwardly.

“Oh right,” Ron said, snapping out of his flustered daze. “Err Hermione, you know about Blaise an’ me right? He’s not entirely bad… you know for a Slytherin.”

Hermione just nodded, “Yes, well it’s uh finally nice to meet you Zabini. Hope you don’t mind, but I’ll make my own decision for myself, and we have to leave now, for Hagrid’s.”

“Of course, of course I understand,” Blaise nodded. “Just one more thing, Harry, I have a message from Malfoy.”

“What is it?” Harry asked apprehensively.

Blaise took a breath and said, “Even though I think he should tell you himself, he wants to bury the hatchet and start over.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at Blaise as if he had three heads. “I’m sorry, but what?” Harry said. “You said that _Malfoy_ wants to start over?”

“Yeah,” Blaise nodded.

Harry thought about it before shaking his head. “Sorry Blaise but you’re right, he should tell me himself.”

“As I thought,” Blaise sighed. “Well, don’t blame the messenger. See you Ron,” Blaise said as he left. Ron continued to stare at him, blushing madly.

“He kissed me, did you see that he kissed me!”

“Yes, we all saw it Ron, now let’s get to Hagrid’s before it gets dark,” Hermione said.

“He never kissed me before… hey Harry, did you see that? He kissed me.”

“Yeah, I saw Ron,” Harry said, his thoughts preoccupied with Malfoy.

Hagrid easily forgave them, after Harry threatened to blast his door down. Hagrid at first thought that they were taking pity on him, but Hermione, Harry, and Ron were able to convince Hagrid that they would have loved to take Care of Magical Creatures, but couldn’t fit it into their schedules. It also helped that they kept telling Hagrid that Professor Grubbly-Plank, who substituted for Hagrid, was an awful teacher and didn’t show them any creatures as fascinating as the ones Hagrid showed them. That seemed to bust Hagrid’s mood, but it was quickly lowered after Harry asked about the giant grubs squirming in a bucket. It seems that Aargog was dying, or at least near death. And because of his near-death, his spiders, the ones that Draco started killing, were beginning to act strangely in the Forbidden Forest. Not even the centaurs could get near the spiders’ colony, not that they had any reason too.

Harry started to lose track of time, and when he looked out of the window, he realized that it was getting dark. Seamus! He completely forgotten about Seamus! And he had Snape’s detention tonight. Groaning, he explained his situation to Hagrid, and Hagrid waved the three off looking quiet cheerful. As soon as Harry stepped into the Entrance Hall, he found Seamus waiting for them.

“Thought you almost forgot about me,” Seamus chuckled.

“I’m so sorry Seamus,” Harry said. “Hagrid was feeling down, and we lost track of time—“

“Don’t worry about it Harry, it’s nice that you care about your friends so much. …Well, since we can’t go off somewhere quiet to talk, how about you sit with me for dinner?” Seamus asked.

“Yeah, that’ll be great,” Harry said, smiling. “Anything’s good before Snape’s detention.”

Seamus nodded, and the four walked into the Great Hall. The smell of roast beef made Harry’s stomach ache with hunger, but they had barely taken three steps toward the Gryffindor table when Professor Slughorn appeared in front of them, blocking their bath.

“Harry, Harry, just the man I was hoping to see!” he boomed genially, twiddling the ends of his walrus mustache and puffing out his enormous belly. “I was hoping to catch you before dinner! What do you say to a spot of supper tonight in my room instead? We’re having a little party, just a few rising stars, I’ve got McLaggen coming and the charming Melinda Bobbin—I don’t know whether you know her? Her family owns a large chain of apothecaries—and, of course, I hope very much that Miss Granger will favor me by coming too.”

Slughorn made Hermione a little bow as he finished speaking. It was as though Ron and Seamus were not present; Slughorn did not as much as look at them.

“I can’t come, Professor,” Harry said at once. “I’ve got a detention with Professor Snape.”

“Oh dear!” Slughorn said, his face falling comically. “Dear, dear, I was counting on you, Harry! Well, now, I’ll just have to have a word with Severus and explain the situation. I’m sure I’ll be able to persuade him to postpone your detention. Yes, I’ll see you both later!”

He bustled away out of the Hall.

“He’s got no chance of persuading Snape,” Harry said the moment Slughorn was out of earshot. “This detention’s already been postponed once; Snape did it for Dumbledore, but he won’t do it for anyone else.”

“I wish you would come, I don’t want to be there alone,” Hermione said anxiously; Harry knew that she was thinking about McLaggen.

“I doubt you’ll be alone, Ginny’ll probably be invited,” Ron snapped, who did not seem to have taken kindly to being ignored by Slughorn.

Seamus sighed and held Harry’s hand, “Come on, let’s find a good seat.”

Harry nodded and waved Ron and Hermione goodbye, promising to meet up with them in the common room. Harry and Seamus sat down at one end of the table, next to each other so it was easier to hear each other over the common roar that was dinner time. Harry didn’t mind though, he liked being close to Seamus.

The two began talking, getting through the embarrassing questions such as “Favorite colors” and “favorite foods,” then Harry asked. “Seamus… how did you knew that you liked guys… instead of girls?” Harry blushed as if he was asking something he shouldn’t have.

“You know, you’re cute when you blush,” Seamus chuckled. “Let’s see… when I was fourteen, during the Triwizard Tournament. During the Second Task I couldn’t keep my eyes off of Cedric and Krum! And you too of course,” he winked. “Few weeks later, after some girl asked me out, I realized that I don’t care for girls the way other boys do. How about you?” he asked.

“Ron,” Harry said immediately. “Ever summer I live with him at his house, and we’re always in the same room. It was the summer before fourth year I’ve realized.”

“No wonder you barely spent time with that girl you brought with for the Yule Ball,” Seamus laughed. “Did you and Ron ever… you know?”

“No—no! No, no, no God no!” Harry blushed, shaking his head. “The most we’ve done is just sit close together.”

“Like this?” Seamus asked, sliding closer to Harry. Harry noticed that they were now only centimeters apart, their legs touching. Harry’s hand landed on Seamus’ thigh. Harry nodded. “You mean, you’ve been this close to Ron,” Seamus whispered, “that neither of you were ever tempted? Your lips look too plump Harry, I really want to know how they feel…”

“Seamus…”

“It might be too quick, but Harry I have to know, can I kiss you?” Seamus asked.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He stared at Seamus’ lips and an urge, a need to have them overtook him. Harry nodded. Seamus smiled, and closed the distance between them. It was incredible! Sloppy, both of them obviously being amateurs, but Harry loved every moment of it. His cock started to harden as they kissed, and as soon as it started, Seamus pulled back, smirking.

“You taste delicious Harry,” he said. “But don’t worry, I’ll wait to see how the rest of you taste like.”

Harry blushed, “You err taste good too,” he said.

Seamus smiled and settled back into his seat. “Next time we kiss, only when you say so, alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, licking his lips. It was then at that moment that Harry realized that he liked kissing very much.

They both exchanged shy smiled and continued their “dinner date.” As they ate Harry glanced at the staff table and noticed that Dumbledore wasn’t there. He frowned and voiced his concerns to Seamus. Seamus looked at the table and said, “He’s most likely fine, Harry. Probably too busy in his office to eat.” Harry nodded in agreement and turned topics to safer things.

 After they finished dinner, the two made their way back to the Gryffindor common room. On their way, Harry kept taking steps towards Seamus until he held his hand. Dean joined them and the three talked, Harry learning a bit more about Dean Thomas before separating away from them to rejoin Hermione and Ron at the common room.

The two started asking questions about Harry’s time with Seamus, and he answered them patiently, happy that neither of them asked any heated questions.

When he was about halfway done talking about Seamus, the new Chaser Demelza Robins came up to them and said, “Harry, I’ve got a message for you.”

“From Professor Slughorn?” Harry asked, sitting up hopefully.

“No …from Professor Snape,” Demelza said. Harry’s heart sank. “He says you’re to come to his office at half past eight tonight to do your detention—er—no matter how many party invitations you’ve received. And he wanted you to know you’ll be sorting out rotten flobberworms from good ones, to use in Potions and— and he says there’s no need to bring protective gloves.”

“Right,” Harry said grimly. “Thanks a lot, Demelza.”

 

“There you are. Where were you?” Blaise asked as Draco walked into the Slytherin common room. Draco’s robes were slightly tattered and his hair was in slight disarray. Blaise saw there was dried blood on Draco’s fingertips, and there was a bit of blood on his lower lip. Slytherins moved out of the way as Draco sauntered in, ignoring everyone bar Blaise as he made to his seat. Draco sat down in his armchair and looked around at the younger years.

“I need a drink,” was all he said. The younger years scurried in fear, a couple of them running out of the common room in order to get Draco his drink. Draco smirked at their fear and excitement and looked at Blaise. “I was in the Forest,” Draco explained. “My Drogo decided that since I have this room under my command, I might as well have control of the forest as well.”

“The Forest? As in the Forbidden Forest?” Blaise asked.

Draco nodded. “Yes. I’ve marked some trees, killed some spiders, and started hunting. Killed three deers, and ate them.”

“Gross,” Blaise grimaced. “Please tell me you didn’t eat them raw!”

“No, I’ve burned them for a bit before eating them,” Draco said. “I was disgusted at first, but quickly got past that.”

“So what? You’re planning on ‘cooking’ Harry a meal?” Blaise couldn’t help but laugh. Draco have him a sharp look, but blushed.

“Anyway, how was Slughorn’s party?” Draco asked, sneering slightly.

“Still hung up on not being part of the Club,” Blaise chuckled. “I didn’t go,” he shrugged. “Harry couldn’t go there because of his detention, so I didn’t feel like going.”

Draco nodded. “So what did you do instead?”

“Just ate dinner at the Great Hall and stared at my mates,” Blaise said. The common room doors opened again and the younger years ran back, each holding a drink for Draco. They silently, and approached Draco, looking in both fear and awe. Draco looked at them and held out his hand for one drink, taking it. Blaise muttered a “Thanks” as he took the other one. The younger Slytherins, smiling widely for being that close to Draco Malfoy, scurried to their friends to gloat about it.

“You know you can smile at them,” Blaise said taking a sip. “Or is that against the Ice Prince’s ways?”

Draco chuckled as he took a sip. “My ways are none of your concern Blaise.”

“Should we still call you the Ice Prince?” Blaise mused. “You know, now that you have the fire thing, seems a bit ironic or misplacing.” He took another sip of his drink and said, “Draco Malfoy, Fire Prince… no that sounds wrong. A Fire Prince would actually smile.” He chuckled to his own joke.

Draco just stared at him. “Anyway, what did my mate do during dinner? Did he accept my proposal?”

“A bit,” Blaise said. “He agreed with me that you should actually talk to him yourself, and by the way he said it I think he most likely won’t try to curse you. As for dinner, he spent it with his friends as normal.”

“That’s it?” Draco asked sharply, staring at Blaise.

Blaise shrugged. “I’m not Harry’s nanny. I was too busy making sure that Neville actually ate his dinner. Poor guy played with food mostly. …I should really tell Ron about him… maybe then it’ll be easier to mate with them. You know, have a mating threeway for the first time? It’s been forever since I’ve transformed.”

Draco smirked. “What the hell do you even turn to? Just yourself with horns?” he laughed.

“I’ll let you know I have wings as well,” Blaise said, and a tail!” he added. “I’m just more creative in the ways I use them than you are.”

Draco just glared at Blaise again. “I can be creative with my form,” he said.

“Not the way I’ve been thinking Draco. Your body has been made for protection, battle. While mine has been made for love, sexual activities. Of course I can fight if I need to, but I would rather have fun,” Blaise smirked in his cup. “Anyway, Harry just hung out with Finnigan and Thomas for all I know. Right now, he’s at detention with Snape.”

Draco nodded. “I see… I need to correct that, don’t I? I won’t have a mate who frequently gets detentions.”

Blaise sighed, but said nothing. Baby steps, that’s what Draco needs. Very hard, very small, and going nowhere baby steps.

 

Yaxley was no longer the man he was a few weeks ago. His hair was now thinning greatly, his body losing weight at a great deal, his face now resembling a living skull. He spent every day now in his office, listening to his Lord’s commands as he stared at Voldemort’s wand, twirling it in his fingers as his Lord once done, and will do again. Seven days. Just seven more days. The plan was already in motion. Lucius has been tasked with finding and gathering those faithful to his Lord, while Wormtail was forced to stay with Yaxley, being his servant for the next seven days. Blood. He needed blood. The ritual his Dark Lord called for required him to drink blood for the next week. “The blood of our enemies will bring you back, my Lord,” Yaxley once told his Lord while looking into the mirror.

It was easy gathering it. There were many witches and wizards who dared go against the Dark Lord. It was a simple task to kidnap healthy wizards and drain them of their blood. That was Wormtail’s duty. Lestrange was called in the second day after Wormtail’s first blunder, so now she was asked to torture their guests as Wormtail gathered what Yaxley and the Dark Lord required.

Yaxley smiled to himself as he drank the goblet in front of him. The blood tasted disgusting, but all of it was for his Lord. Bellatrix Lestrange walked into the office. “What should we do with the wandmaker?” she asked.

“We have what we need from him,” Yaxley said, but his voice was not his own. Voldemort’s voice was slowly creeping into his. “Kill him.”

“Yes my Lord,” Bellatrix said. She walked out of the office, closing the door behind her. Yaxley smirked at his goblet as he raised it. Yes, seven days. Then the Dark Lord shall rise again. More powerful and fearsome than ever before!


	8. Earrings and Forgiveness

Chapter 8

Earrings and Forgiveness

Draco was angry. No, he was pissed. The first Hogsmeade visit is coming up, the next day in fact, and instead of having it as a romantic first date with his mate, he was still single. How dare Harry love anyone other than him! How dare his mate, his submissive, care for anyone else who is not Draco Malfoy! It’s unthinkable! It’s unlawful! It was as if his life was supposed to be a romantic fiction, and yet Harry’s firsts is not his. Luckily, though it seems there still is time for that. Harry has not been kissed, as far as he known, his mate had only been holding Finnigan’s hand and walking close to him. But still, the Drogo needed to make his mate his! It was already mid October! Why aren’t they together!?

With an annoyed growl, Draco decided he needed more sleep, so he returned to his dormitory, stripped, and climbed into his bed.

As soon as he closed his eyes, he drifted off into a troublesome dream.

He was in the sky, the sun was shining brilliantly and there was nary a cloud in the sky. Draco looked around and saw that he was standing on an invisible platform. And there was Harry, happy, smiling, riding on a broomstick. “Come on! There’s no way you’re going to catch me!” he yelled out.

Draco made to chase him, using his hands to grip his broom, only to realize that he did not have his Nimbus 2001, nor was he the one Harry was yelling to. Seamus Finnigan came out of nowhere, laughing as he chased after Harry on his broom.

“Come on you slow Irish lad!” Harry mocked, looking back.

Draco saw a competitive glint in Finnigan’s eyes as he said, “You really going to talk to me like that boy?”

Enraged, Draco could do nothing as he watched Harry fly around with Finnigan. He tried to chase after them, tried to transform, but the more he moved and struggle, the more he realized that he was chained down to the invisible platform on which he was standing. He tried to burn the shackles but couldn’t, his flames just made the iron chains go an angry red before fading. He was powerless, absolutely powerless and he hated it. He was forced to watch as Finnigan chased his mate, and eventually caught up with him. Both boys were laughing, boy boys were smiling, and Draco kept fighting the chains, cursing whoever sent them. As soon as he was free, he would kill both the sender and Finnigan, he swore.

Finnigan was touching his mate, caressing his mate’s perfect face with his ugly, disgusting half-blood mick hands. Every move just filled Draco with pure hatred. The shackles around his arms and legs were a red-hot color, giving off an angry hissing sound as fire naturally emitted from his body. “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” Draco yelled as Harry and Seamus slowly gotten closer and closer. “I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU FUCKING MICK! YOU DAMN PADDY!”

But they didn’t hear him. His precious, sweet mate just continued to smile at Finnigan, and soon their faces were slowly descending onto another, his mate’s beautiful green eyes closing as their lips were about to touch—

“NOO!” Draco yelled as he continued to struggle against the chains. He felt his face changing, morphing into his Drogo form. Though only partial, he was able to roar and spit fire at the scene, wanting the mick to burn.

But he didn’t, instead the scene around Draco caught on fire, like a picture. The skies started to burn, brown marks took over his visions as the sky, the flying, and Harry and Finnigan burned out of his vision. Draco was left in a darkness, still chained, still on the ground, but only for a moment. For as he was about to yell out, the scene changed again.

He was in a bedroom. The windows were open, and moonlight shone onto a four-poster bed. The sheets were a dark satin color, and there was his mate, laying on the bed naked. His eyes were lust-filled, and he was withering on top of the sheets, moaning in a painful pleasure, his cock fully erect and freely leaking pre-cum. Harry couldn’t help but smirk at the image, his own cock hardening at the sight. He made to move closer to his mate, only to remember that he was still chained. Draco roared in frustration. There he was, his precious mate naked and withering! Draco could see his legs were raised and tied to the post, in his hole a pulsating toy.

Harry moaned, tears escaping his eyes. He tried to move his arms but couldn’t. Draco saw as ropes magically appeared from the other two posts and tied tightly around Harry’s arms. Then, Harry said something that Draco dreaded. “Seamus! Hurry up!” he moaned.

Draco heard the Irish student chuckle as he strolled into the bedroom. He had no shirt on, his muscles covered in a light coat of hair as he wore tight, black leather pants. “Harry, Harry,” the Irish man said. “What did I tell you? What are you supposed to call me when we’re alone?”

Harry, while he was still withering, his face already flushed and sweating, smiled meekly and said, “Seamus please…”

“It was your idea Harry,” Seamus chuckled. “Now come on… what do you call me?” Harry muttered something and Seamus frowned. “What was that boy? I didn’t hear you.”

“Daddy,” Harry said louder. “I call you Daddy tonight.”

“Good boy,” Seamus smirked. He took a step closer and stood at the edge of the bed.

Draco’s rage grew higher and higher, the iron chains binding him to the floor still resisting his heat. How dare he. _How dare he!_ How dare that damn Seamus Finnigan force his mate into this position! Call his mate “boy!” How dare he make his mate called him that, call him his dominant! Finnigan is not his dominant! Seamus Finnigan climbed onto the bed and Draco saw red. With all of his strength, Draco fought against the chains. There was the sound of groaning, then a snap, and everything changed. Suddenly Harry and Seamus could see him, and Draco could see him too.

He was still chained to the floor, but he could see himself, another Draco, stalking towards the couple in bed. This Draco’s skin was metallic, his eyes pure silver and his mouth was snarling, razor sharp teeth showing. Draco knew immediately that standing before Harry and Seamus was not Draco Malfoy, but his Drogo, his creature. A being of pure animalistic instinct. Harry screamed when he saw Draco. “Malfoy!” he shrieked.

Finnigan turned around and said, “Malfoy? The hell you’re doing here?”

“Stay away from my mate,” the Drogo snarled. “Or else…”

“What you talking about Malfoy? Get out! This is private!” Finnigan said. He turned to stand between Harry and Draco, blocking Harry from the Drogo’s view.

“Not anymore,” the Drogo sneered. And before Finnigan or Harry could react, Draco’s hands slashed at Finnigan, cutting into the teenager’s stomach. Harry screamed in terror, but Finnigan just gasped, his hands going to his slashed stomach, blood pouring onto his hands. “W-why?” he gasped.

The Drogo just roared and engulfed the dying teenager in silver fire.

As the flames died out, he turned his attention to Harry.

Harry was fighting his restraints, trying to get free. “Look Malfoy—Draco, please look—we can—we can—“ He pleaded, panicked, never ever being in a most defenseless position. “Seamus—you killed him!” he cried out.

“He was going to touch you, fuck you. I won’t allow anyone to fuck you mate. You are _mine_!” the Drogo snarled out.

In his chains, Draco struggled, trying to free himself. The chains no longer burned red in his attempts, dragon and human now separated. “No! Not like this!” the human Draco called out. Harry deserves better! Better than this! Anything but this!

But the Drogo didn’t listen to him. He just smirked as he began undoing his belt, stepping over the burning corpse of Seamus Finnigan. Draco was now crying tears of frustrations. Not this! He didn’t want this! He wanted to woo Harry, show him how much better he is than Finnigan! Than anyone else! Not kill him!

Harry was crying openly as he tried his best to pull away from the Drogo. “Malfoy, Malfoy please—please don’t!”

The Drogo’s hand started towards Harry’s thigh, and caressed it, Finnigan’s blood painted on Harry’s perfect, white skin as his fingers slid.

“DON’T YOU TOUCH HIM!” Draco yelled. Harry continued to cry, but the Drogo stopped and looked at Draco.

He gave a cold, sadistic smile. “Don’t you want this? We have it! Our mate is ours. Ours to do what we please,” he said.

Draco felt anger boiling inside him. “No! He’s not ours! You were—you were going to—“ Draco screamed in frustration. “I want Harry! Harry Potter! I want to woo him, court him! Not rape him!”

The Drogo glared at Draco. He stepped off of the bed and walked towards Draco. Draco’s eyes were solely on his other self as he approached, but all he could hear was Harry’s crying. Oh what a heartbreaking sound! Draco wished he could unheard it! To never hear it! He felt sharp claws on his cheeks as the Drogo pulled Draco towards him. “You’re weak,” he snarled. “Weak and pathetic. Our mate is right there, and his stupid boyfriend is gone. We are Drogo, Malfoy. We don’t woo, we take. We take and ravage our mate until it knows it belongs to us.”

Draco glared at himself. Was this how he was acting? Was this how Blaise was seeing him? How everyone else was seeing him?

“Took you long enough,” Blaise’s voice said as he strolled into the scene. He was looking at Draco, giving him a warm, yet stern look before turning his attention to Harry. He frowned at Seamus’ burning body, but avoided it as he sat down next to Harry. Taking out his wand, he whispered, “Everything is going to be okay, don’t worry Harry.” The ropes disappeared and Harry did everything he could do to get away from his boyfriend’s body, from Malfoy, and hug Blaise in mourning. Blaise hushed and brushed Harry’s hair with his hand as the scared human hugged him. He looked at Draco and said, “Right Draco?”

“Blaise!” Both Draco and the Drogo snarled. He was about to tell his friend to not touch his mate, but stopped himself. “Help me with these chains… and keep Harry safe…please.” He said.

The Drogo snarled at him. “We should kill the Incubus!” he said. “He touched our mate!”

“You scared our mate!” Draco yelled at the Drogo. “He hates you! I don’t want this. I want Harry to love me on his own! Not force him to by repeatedly raping him! That’s not how we’re going to do it!”

“And what? Your stupid, idiotic way works better?” The Drogo snarled. “You are weak Draco Malfoy. Weak like your father. Just let me take control, and we will have everything we want!”

Draco’s face sharpened as his eyes turned cold. “Don’t you dare,” he said in barely a whispered, his voice cutting the very air around them, “compare me to my father. I am nothing like him.”

The Drogo smirked. “Are you?”

“Well Draco?” Blaise asked, still sitting on the bed and comforting Harry. “What are you going to do?”

Draco did something he had never done before. He woke up screaming. A cold sweat covered Draco’s body as he sprang upwards, his heart pacing, chest heaving. Draco looked around in a daze and barely noticed that it was morning. He slept the entire night.

Draco looked around the dormitory. Empty, he was thankfully alone. Draco got out of the bed and stood there unconscious or not caring to the fact he was nude. He didn’t care, his nightmare still scared him. Everything seemed so real. He gazed in horror at his hands only to be relieved that they were clean, fresh. Finnigan was still living. Guilt devoured him as he thought about that. He wanted to kill the boy, he did kill the boy, just because he was with Harry. His ma—no, not his mate. Draco has no right calling Harry his mate. Harry is too pure, too innocent to have an awful person like Draco.

Draco resolved that he will not call Harry his mate, or him Harry’s Dominant. Not until he grows into a Dominant Harry can be proud of. His Drogo was right, he was weak. But not because he refused to act on the Drogo’s instinct. He was weak because he wanted to follow his dragon’s instinct, to take Harry as his property.

He was not going to treat Harry like that anymore. He is going to fulfill what he always wanted, and have Harry not as a conquest, but as a boyfriend. A boyfriend whom Draco had wooed, courted, and showered with adoration. Feeling a new sense of purpose, Draco knew exactly what he needed to do. He needed to find Blaise.

Draco quickly dressed and ran down the stairs into the common room. It was empty also, so he quickly made his way to the Great Hall where he found Blaise eating breakfast. Draco sat down next to him and Blaise gave him a look. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

Draco told him everything, from his dream, to his horror, and his revelation. When he was done Blaise smiled. “That’s good. You’re finally learning the balance between yourself and your creature. But it won’t be easy Draco. It’s hard when we’re unmated. There isn’t a time that passes by that I don’t want to drag Ron and Neville to a room and have my way with them, but I know that if I take my time, it’ll be worth it in the end.”

“Yeah…” Draco nodded, frowning. “I don’t want to be that… there was so much blood… and it was on Harry—“

“Relax Draco, it was just a dream. …See? Finnigan is still alive and well, as well as Harry,” Seamus pointed out, pointing to the new couple who were talking with Ron and Hermione. Draco looked and saw them. For some reason, he didn’t feel the boiling rage that he felt yesterday. Instead, a mild jealousy and irritation grew.

“What are you thinking?” Blaise asked hesitantly.

“How I can best show Potter my friendship,” Draco said. “That’s what I have to do yeah? Friendship first, then show how great I am.”

Blaise chuckled and shook his head. “I missed your cockiness,” he said. “Much better than that murderous ‘woe is me’ thing you had these past couple of weeks.”

Draco nodded and frowned. “Sorry about that, by the way. …Did you figured out how you are going to tell Ron and Neville?”

“Well, I have a plan, not sure it’s going to work,” Blaise said. “Just going to slide Ron into it. Should be simple… he doesn’t look like a complete submissive, so who knows, hopefully he’ll like fucking as well as getting fucked.”

Draco nodded and gave Harry one more glance before turning to his breakfast. He needed the perfect way to make amends with Harry, and that will need energy.

 

“So you just decided to try out an unknown, handwritten incantation and see what would happen?” Hermione asked disapprovingly. She, Harry, Ron, and Seamus were sitting at the Gryffindor Table. Dean Thomas was across of Seamus and both boys were chuckling at Hermione’s actions. “Is she always like this?” Seamus whispered to Harry, who nodded.

“Why does it matter if it’s handwritten?” Harry said to Hermione, preferring not to answer the rest of the question.

“Because it’s probably not Ministry of Magic-approved,” Hermione said. “And also,” she added, as Harry and Ron rolled their eyes, “because I’m starting to think this Prince character was a bit dodgy.”

“It was a laugh!” Ron said, upending a ketchup bottle over his sausages. “Just a laugh, Hermione, that’s all!”

“Dangling people upside down by the ankle?” Hermione said. “Who puts their time and energy into making up spells like that?”

“Well, it was pretty funny,” Seamus chuckled, Dean agreeing. Hermione just gave them a cool stare as Seamus looked at Harry. “Who is this Prince fellow?” he asked.

Harry looked at Hermione, who huffed, and turned back to Seamus. “He’s a guy who wrote in my Potions book,” he said.

Seamus nodded.

“But still it’s awful,” Hermione said. “We’ve seen a whole bunch of people use a spell like that. Dangling people in the air. Making them float along, asleep, helpless.”

Harry stared at her. With a sinking feeling, he too remembered the behavior of the Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup. Ron came to his aid.

“That was different,” he said robustly. “They were abusing it, Harry was just having a laugh. You don’t like the Prince, Hermione,” he added, pointing a sausage at her sternly, “because he’s better than you at Potions—“

“It’s got nothing to do with that!” Hermione said, her cheeks reddening. “I just think it’s very irresponsible to start performing spells when you don’t even know what they’re for, and stop talking about ‘the Prince’ as if it’s his title. I bet it’s just a stupid nickname, and it doesn’t seem as though he was a very nice person to me!”

“I don’t see where you get that from—“

“Harry,” Ginny’s voice interrupted. “I’m supposed to give you this.”

It was a scroll of parchment with Harry’s name written upon it in familiar thin, slanting writing.

“Thanks, Ginny …It’s Dumbledore’s next lesson!” Harry told Ron and Hermione as Ginny moved to talk with Dean. “Monday evening!”

Seamus turned from the flirting girl and boy, a small scowl on his face as he looked at Harry, “Harry,” he said looking slightly irritated at Dean and Ginny. “How about we spend a bit of time together at Hogsmeade today? “

“Yeah, I’d love that,” Harry smiled. He blushed a little and said, “Actually, you remember that talk we had… in the showers?”

“You mean when you were checking me out?” Seamus smirked.

Harry nodded. “You told me about thinking about getting an earring… how about we go out together and pick one out?”

Seamus smiled. “Sounds like a date Harry,” he said. He looked at Dean and shook his head. “I’ll have to get ready thing, didn’t expect it to be this cold. Dean! Come on.” Seamus said. Harry couldn’t help but look at the small glare Seamus was giving Ginny as she waved goodbye to his best friend.

“Seamus and Dean seem close,” Harry couldn’t help but comment.

“Yeah well, they have always been attached to the hip since first year,” Hermione commented. “A bit like you and Ron to be honest.”

Harry and Ron looked at each other confused. “We’re not attached to the hip!” Harry argued, Ron nodding his head in agreement, his mouth filled with his breakfast sausages.

Hermione looked at the two of them, but just shook her head.

Filch was standing at the oak front doors as usual, checking off the names of people who had permission to go into Hogsmeade. The process took even longer than usual as Filch was triple-checking everybody with his Secrecy Sensor.

“What does it matter if we’re smuggling Dark stuff OUT?” Ron demanded, eyeing the long thin Secrecy Sensor with apprehension. “Surely you ought to be checking what we bring back IN?”

His cheek earned him a few extra jabs with the Sensor, and he was still wincing as they stepped out into the wind and sleet.

They heard a chuckle behind them and turned to see Blaise walking up to them. “You’re misbehaving already Ron?” Blaise laughed.

“Shut up,” Ron blushed as Blaise made his way up to the three and took his place next to Ron, both boys using each other for warmth.

The walk into Hogsmeade was not enjoyable. Harry wrapped his scarf over his lower face; the exposed part soon felt both raw and numb. The road to the village was full of students bent double against the bitter wind. More than once Harry wondered whether they might not have had a better time in the warm common room, and when they finally reached Hogsmeade and saw that Zonko’s Joke Shop had been boarded up, Harry took it as a confirmation that this trip was not destined to be fun. Ron pointed, with a thickly gloved hand, toward Honeydukes, which was mercifully open, and harry and Hermione staggered in his and Blaise’s wake into the crowded shop.

“Thank God,” Ron shivered as they were enveloped by warm, toffee-scented air. “Let’s stay here all afternoon.”

“Harry, m’boy!” said a booming voice from behind them. “And Blaise as well!”

“Oh no,” Harry muttered. The four of them turned to see Professor Slughorn, who was wearing an enormous furry hat and an overcoat with matching fur collar, clutching a large bag of crystallized pineapple, and occupying at least a quarter of the shop.

“Harry, that’s three of my little suppers you’ve missed now!” Slughorn said, poking him genially in the chest. “And you Blaise, you’ve missed two of them! It won’t de m’boys, I’m determined to have you both! Miss Granger loves them, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Hermione said helplessly, “they’re really—“

“So why don’t you come along, Harry?” Slughorn demanded. “You too, Blaise.”

“Well, I’ve had Quidditch practice, Professor,” Harry said, who had indeed been scheduling practices every time Slughorn had sent him a little, violet ribbon-adorned invitation. This strategy meant that Ron was not left out, and they usually had a laugh with Ginny, imagining Hermione shut up with McLaggen.

“Well, I certainly expect you to win your first match after all this hard work! And what about you Blaise? Surely Slytherin doesn’t schedule their practices at the same time as Gryffindor!” Slughorn chuckled.

“No, I’m not on the team,” Blaise said coolly, “but I like to watch my boyfriend here, Ron practice. He’s the Gryffindor Keeper.”

“Ahh, yes that’s nice,” Slughorn said, not even looking at Ron. “But a little recreation never hurt anybody. Now, how about Monday night, you can’t possibly want to practice in this weather. …”

“I can’t,” Harry said, “I’ve got—er—an appointment with Professor Dumbledore that evening.”

“Unlucky again!” Professor Slughorn cried out dramatically. “And what of you Blaise? There is no escaping this time!”

Blaise glanced at Ron, whom Professor Slughorn was still ignoring. There was a look of jealousy on Ron’s face. “I can’t,” Blaise said. “Ron and I were going to—uh—help each other with homework on Monday night.” Ron had a look of shock on his face at the mention of homework.

“Well, you can’t keep invading me forever boys!” Slughorn said, and with a regal wave, he waddled out of the shop, taking as little notice of Ron as though he had been a display of Cockroach Clusters.

“I can’t believe you’ve wriggled out of another one,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “They’re not _that_ bad, you know. …They’re even quite fun sometimes. …” But then she caught sight of Ron’s expression. “Oh look—they’ve got deluxe sugar quills—those would last hours!”

Glad that Hermione had changed the subject, Harry showed much more interest in the new extra-large sugar quills than he would normally have done, but Ron continued to look moody. Blaise bumped into him and said, “Hey, Ron, come here.”

Ron looked at them, and the two moved away from the sugar quills. Blaise pulled Ron towards a corner filled with chocolate bars and held his hand, his thumb stroking Ron’s hand. “What’s the matter Ron? Why do you look so moody?”

Ron looked at Blaise for a moment. “It’s just that… Harry and Hermione is in that stupid club, along with you and… well it’s stupid but…” Ron’s cheeks grew scarlet as he thought about it. “I feel left out.”

“Ron,” Blaise said. “Ron, Ron don’t feel like that! Left out?” Blaise took Ron’s head in both hands and made his red-headed boy to look at him in the eye. “Ron. Don’t you ever feel like that okay? Truth is, yeah Slughorn brings interesting people to his dinners, but that party was so boring because you weren’t there. Why else would I try and keep avoiding them?” Blaise smiled. “So, no look at me Ron, don’t blush. Every time that stupid Professor asks me to go to one of those parties, I’ll refuse each and every one until you’re allowed to come. Understand?”

“Blaise, don’t do that for me—“

“Shh, no I’ve made up my mind,” Blaise said, giving Ron a reassuring look. “Just stop with that sour mood, okay?”

Ron looked up at him and nodded. “The hell did I do to get you?” he couldn’t help but asked.

Blaise laughed and smirked at him. “You brought a sex toy Ron, don’t you remember?” Blaise chuckled. “Come on, let’s join the others.” Ron nodded and they walked over to Harry and Hermione.

“Harry! There you are,” Seamus’ voice said. The four turned around to see Seamus shivering slightly as he entered Honeydukes. The two hugged, Seamus holding him mostly for warmth as he continued. “Dean left me for Ginny at that couples place, she dragged him there.”

“Ohh, I know what you’re talking about,” Harry said grimacing, remembering his time in the teashop with Cho Chang last year.

“Yeah… wouldn’t caught dead stepping in a place like that,” Seamus chuckled. They both looked outside the shop’s windows. “There’s an earring shop just down the road. It’s called Bangles and Jewels. Should take us twenty minutes, that is if you didn’t change your mind.”

“No, I still want one,” Harry said, his hand again going to the indentation in his ear. He would be glad to be rid of it, or at least to cover it up.

Seamus smiled, “Alright then, let’s go before the wind gets worst! If that’s possible.”

Harry nodded and looked at Ron and Hermione, “I’ll meet up with you guys at the Three Broomsticks, alright?” he said.

“Yeah, sure,” Ron said, Hermione agreeing with him. Harry left the sweets shop, both him and Seamus bundled up and stepped close to each other. Ron, Hermione, and Blaise looked at each other, wondering where to go next. Hermione suggested just going over to the Three Broomsticks as Honeydukes was always crowded, and they could sit down. The boys agreed and stepped outside into the cold with Hermione. They’ve barely took five steps out of Honeydukes when they heard a voice.

“Blaise!”

They turned to see Draco Malfoy walking up to them. Ron and Hermione immediately glared at him. “What do you want Malfoy?” Ron spat.

Draco ignored him. “Where’s Harry?” he asked Blaise.

“Why do you care? Going to bite him again Malfoy?” Ron demanded.

“You’re lucky Harry stopped us from telling Professor McGonagall,” Hermione said.

Draco only spared them a glance. “Blaise… where’s Harry? I just want to talk to him.”

“What for?” Hermione asked.

“Not that it’s your business, but I want to apologize to Harry,” Draco said. “Or were you not listening when Blaise told you guys that.”

“I thought he was just joking,” Ron admitted, Hermione agreeing with Ron.

“Well, I wasn’t,” Blaise chuckled.

Draco glared at the three of them. “Where is Harry?” he asked again. “I want to apologize with him.”

Blaise shrugged. “He’s on a date with Seamus right now. Getting an earring. Why don’t you just come with us? He’s going to meet us in the Three Broomsticks when they’re done, you two can talk then where it’s warm… and with teachers around.”

“I—thank you,” Draco said. Inside he could feel his Drogo yelling, resisting, telling him to go out and search for his mate. Draco ignored it. If Harry knew and met his Drogo so soon, see his terrible power, Draco was sure that Harry would run, mate or not. He will deal with this the human way, the way he wanted to woo Harry even before he became a Drogo. The four made their way towards the Three Broomsticks, Hermione and Ron up front, looking suspiciously at Draco as he and Blaise trailed behind. The four got strange looks from onlookers seeing Green and red together so peacefully.

“Hey Blaise,” Draco said. “Remember how… well, Drogos were supposed to take their mates, and ravish them until they loved them.”

“Yeah,” Blaise nodded. “That’s all the professionals who study creatures like us can learn.”

Draco nodded and frowned, “After my nightmare last night, I think I’ve learned what they meant. … Ravish sounds so much better than raping, doesn’t it?”

Blaise gasped, almost stopping. “You meant that you—“

“No!” Draco said firmly. “I don’t. … _He_ does, the Drogo inside me. He wants nothing more than to run towards Harry and take him then and there, but I won’t let him. I won’t…”

“I understand,” Blaise nodded. He smiled at Draco and said, “You need to relax, I’m serious. Come on, I’ll try and get you a shot of firewhiskey with your Butterbeer.”

 

Harry was happy to step out of the cold again. Bangles and Jewels was a small shop that sat on one of the side streets that stretched out of the main road. It was still a nice looking shop, though it’s windows were close and darkened because of the Death Eaters’ rise. The inside, however, had a homely feel even though Harry was surrounded by jewels of every shape, rock, and size imaginable. To his immediate left was a bracelet with rubies and sapphires that seemed to merge into a large garnet at the top. Harry looked at the bracelet for a moment before looking over the other gemstones and jewelry. There were counters and counters filled with the jewelry, yet the shop did not feel cold, or materialistic. The wooden floor was covered by a rug, and there was a couple of armchairs near a small table. They were the only ones in the store, and walked up to the counter where a lean wizard stood.

“Hello, welcome to Bangles and Jewels, the only shop in Hogsmeade that can provide magical jewelry of any size, shape, or enchantment,” the wizard said. “What are you two looking for today?”

“An earring,” Harry said. “I’m looking to get an earring.”

“Just one?”

“Yes,” Harry said. “Something that’s not big or easily noticeable, please.”

The wizard nodded and took out his wand. “Of course,” he said. “Now, which ear is this going to be?”

“My right,” Harry said, his hand moving to touch the indention again. The wizard nodded and asked Harry to step up. He did so, and showed him his ear. “God, what happened?” the wizard gasped.

“I got bit,” Harry replied.

The wizard’s eyes immediately turned towards Seamus, who held his hands up defensively. “Wasn’t me mate!” he said.

“Right,” the wizard said, “well an earring would definitely hide that. Once second.” He waved his wand and the multiple counters in the shop opened, many pieces of jewelry coming out of their containers and flying towards them. The earrings all rested in front of Harry, and the wizard said, “take your time.”

But Harry didn’t need time. His eyes were drawn immediately to one earring. It didn’t have jewels, it wasn’t an emerald stud that perfectly matched his eyes (those were on the other side of the earrings), and it wasn’t anything that looked not-Harry. Instead, it was a tooth, a long, sharp tooth that was black as night, as if charred from a fearsome fire. For some reason, it reminded him of his dreams. “That one,” he said, pointing at the tooth.

“T-That one? You sure?” the wizard asked. “Are you sure? There is this very lovely emerald.”

“No, this one,” Harry said. “What is it?”

“It’s a uh tooth,” the wizard said. “A dragon’s tooth. It was burned to a crisp because of the Dragon’s fire, so it is perfectly worthless. Now again, I want to point your attentions, sirs, at this beautiful emerald stud. Or maybe, this piece of rainbow quartz that took the jewelers seven months to craft.”

“No, I want this one,” Harry said holding up the Dragon’s tooth. He turned to Seamus and held it in his ear. “How does it look?” he asked.

“Perfect Harry,” Seamus said, “It almost blends into your hair. Gives you a dangerous edge,” he winked.

Harry laughed and turned to the wizard, who barely hid his expression at the lost of money he would have gained from the other types of earrings. He sighed, and flicked his wand, the other earrings rushing back to their resting place for the next costumer. “Well, let’s go, this will only take a moment,” the wizard said. He led Harry towards a small room and had him sit down in a chair. “It’s easier if you’re sitting,” he explained.

The wizard took the black dragon tooth and held it up to Harry’s ear. It practically blended into Harry’s hair, only there if you know what to look for. The wizard took the small piercing attached to the tooth and held it against the indentation. With his other hand, he used his wand to levitate the stud on the other side of Harry’s ear and with a small flick the piercing went through, into the stud, and it was complete. Harry felt no pain, he was used to it, and after a couple of more flicks from his wand the wizard told him that he was done.

“There we are,” the wizard said. “Now feel it.” Harry did, smiling at himself when he felt the tooth brush against his fingers, the long, sharp earring surprisingly smooth. “At the end of the day, to take it off you just need to simply touch it, it’ll come out by itself. To put it back on, just bring the earring back on your ear. All our jewelry here are enchanted to place themselves back on correctly.”

“Thanks,” Harry said standing up, he smiled at Seamus and they kissed briefly.

“Looks great Harry,” Seamus said.

Harry thanked the wizard again and the two walked back into the coldness. They huddled together and slowly made their way towards the Three Broomsticks. Harry opened the door and they both walked through, Harry making a pleasant noise as the warm air assaulted his numb face.

“Hey, Harry,” Seamus said. “I have to go check on Dean, alright? He asked to save him from the tea shop, but I’ll see you later okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Harry said nodding.

Seamus smiled, “Thanks Harry!” he said. Seamus left eagerly out of the Three Broomsticks, and Harry felt the full effect of the cold air outside before the door closed.

Giving a breath, Harry turned and looked for his friends. “Harry, there you are,” Blaise said from the bar. Harry walked up to him, “Hey Blaise… err where’s Ron and Hermione?” Harry asked.

“This way,” Blaise said, holding a tray with four Butterbeers. Harry followed him towards the back of the pub. Ron and Hermione looked up at Harry and smiled. “How did it go Harry?” Hermione asked.

“It was quick,” Harry said as Blaise placed the four mugs of Butterbeer on the table.

“Where’s Seamus?” Ron asked.

“He went to get Dean from the tea shop,” Harry said. “We’ll see each other later.”

“Let me get you a drink Harry,” Blaise said.

“Why? There’s four here,” Harry said confused.

“Right… well, one of them is for someone else…” Blaise said. He looked at Ron and Hermione and asked, “Where is he?”

“Loo,” Ron said, his voice showing indifference to whoever he was talking about.

Harry frowned, wondered who they were talking about when he heard a voice. “Blaise… I’ve saw Nott with a bundle, do you know what this is about?”

He turned around to see Malfoy. He glared at him and automatically pulled out his wand.

“Harry wait!” Blaise said, standing between his friend, and his boyfriend’s best friend. “He’s come to apologize.”

“Have you?” Harry asked, glaring daggers at Draco. The Slytherin nodded slowly, his hands held out. Harry looked at him for a moment before muttering, “Fine.”

He grabbed two of the mugs of Butterbeer from the table and turned to another empty booth. Draco followed silently, his mind wheeling around as he try to find out what to say first. Harry found an empty booth in the corner and slid into it, placing both mugs on opposite sides of the table. He picked up his mug and took a long drink of it, waiting for Malfoy to speak.

Draco sat down and bit his lip. “I’m sorry,” he began. “For the past five years… I’m sorry. I’ve acted like an asshole. A pompous, selfish asshole and I’ve caused you and your friends too much annoyance and shit. I want to start over again Harry, I want us to be friends.”

“Why now?” Harry asked. “Why now? Why not last year, or fourth year? Hell even third or second year? Why are you apologizing now?”

Draco looked down at his drink. “Because now I’ve realized how much of a prat I’ve been,” he said. “I’m not asking you to forgive and forget the last six years… I just want you to give me a chance to be friends. I—I really want to be friends with you Harry.”

Harry looked at him. For some reason, he felt like he wanted to forgive Malfoy easily. Something deep inside him wanted to tell the Slytherin that all was forgiven, and they should hang out. But he didn’t he held back that strange, foreign feeling and instead took a drink of his butterbeer, finishing the mug. “One chance,” he said. “I’ll give you only one change Malfoy. Okay?”

“Yes… that’s all I can ask for Harry,” Draco said. Harry nodded and pointed at the mug Draco has been nursing. “You should drink that, I nicked it from Blaise just so you could drink it.” He said.

Draco chuckled and took a sip. “Thanks for nicking it Harry,” he said. Harry gave a smile and nodded. “I’m going to get more.”

As Harry stood up, Draco watched his every move. As the boy was walking back, Draco noticed something on Harry’s right ear and said, “Nice earring Potter, tooth?”

“Dragon’s,” Harry said sitting down. “It’s hiding the bite you gave me.”

Draco frowned at that, “Sorry… I can explain that—“

“And I’m expecting it. Just not now,” Harry said. He lifted his butterbeer and said, “Now, we drink and talk.”

Draco agreed and pointed at the earring. “Do you know what dragon that is?”

“No… I forgot to ask,” Harry said, surprised at how easy he found himself talking with Draco. “Forgot to ask.”

“Let me see… I know a lot about dragon teeth,” Draco said. Harry mumbled something, but he ignored it. Draco looked at the tooth and said, “It’s from a Hungarian Horntail.”

“How the hell do you know?” Harry asked.

“By the length and sharpness,” Draco answered readily. “Horntails’ teeth are unusually long and sharp. Though… from this one I don’t think you need to worry from that. The burning that it went under, sort of smoothed it over. Like a black marble. …Fits your hair perfectly.”

Harry blushed for some reason, “How do you know all that?” he asked.

Draco laughed. “Harry, I’ve always been fascinated by Dragons. They are my namesake after all.”

Harry just nodded. He looked over at the others and said, “Do you want to join us? … if you want to, that is.”

“Sure, yeah,” Draco smiled. He stood up got his and Harry’s drinks, Harry muttering a thanks. They walked over to the others, and Harry, surprisingly, had an enjoyable time sitting in the same booth with Draco Malfoy and talking with him and the others. He was suspicious to be sure, he made sure that Malfoy sat next to Blaise, but across of him, but still Harry had fun.

That fun, however, did not last.

Draco and Blaise left the trio to their own devices after a while, and Hermione suggested that they head back to Hogwarts. The other two nodded, and once again they drew their cloaks tightly around them, rearranged their scarves, pulled on their gloves, then followed Katie Bell and a friend out of the pub and back up the High Street.

It was a little white before Harry became aware that the voices of Katie Bell and her friend, which were being carried back to him on the wind, had become shriller and louder. They turned a corner, and before Harry knew it, Katie’s friend Leanne made a grab to hold whatever it was that Katie was holding. A package fell to the ground.

At once Katie rose into the air gracefully, her arms outstretched, as though she was about to fly. Yet there was something wrong, something eerie. …Her hair was whipped around her by the fierce wind, but her eyes were closed and her face was quite empty of expression. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Leanne had all halted in their tracks, watching.

Then, six feet above the ground, Katie let out a terrible scream. Her eyes flew open by whatever she could see, or whatever she was feeling, was clearly causing her terrible anguish. She screamed and screamed; Leanne started to scream too and seized Katie’s ankles, trying to tug her back to the ground. Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushed forward to help, but even as they grabbed Katie’s legs, she was writhing so much they could hardly hold her. Instead, they lowered her to the ground where she thrashed and screamed, apparently unable to recognize any of them.

Harry looked around; the landscape seemed deserted.

“Stay there!” he shouted at the others over the howling wind. “I’m going for help!”

He began to sprint toward the school; he had never seen anyone behave as Katie had just behaved and could not think what had caused it; he hurtled around a bend in the lane and collided with Hagrid.

“Hagrid!” he panted.

“Harry!” Hagrid said, who had sleet trapped in his eyebrows and beard, and was wearing his great, shaggy beaverskin coat. “Jus’ bin visitin’ Grawp, he’s comin’ on so well yeh wouldn’—“

“Hagrid, someone’s hurt back there, or cursed or something—“

“Wha’?” Hagrid said, bending lower to hear what Harry was saying over the raging wind.

“Someone’s been cursed!” Harry bellowed.

 

But before that happened. Before the cursed necklace touched Katie Bell, before Harry and Draco had that conversation in the Three Broomsticks, before Draco had his terrible, and life changing nightmare, something terrible happened. The Dark Lord came back to life.

It began in the dark room of Yaxley’s office. The man who was formally known as Yaxley was sitting in his chair, staring longingly at the Dark Mark on his forearm. Black as night he picked up Voldemort’s wand and finally, after seven days, jabbed the wand onto it.

Pain surged through his waxy arm, his skin only now a whisper of what it once was. He was a skeleton, thinly wrapped with skin. One by one, the room filled with masked Death Eaters, all confused or angry for being summoned.

“What is the meaning of this Yaxley?” one of them shouted. The body looked around, “Where is Severus?” Voldemort’s voice asked out of the skeletal body. The Death Eaters flinched and cowered at the voice.

“I am here, my Lord,” Snape said appearing in the room. The body nodded and looked at everyone. “Good. It seems that everyone is here then. Wormtail, come to me.”

“Y-Yes, my Lord,” Wormtail stuttered. He stepped forward, holding a dirty bag the body knew was filled with Tom Riddle Sr.’s bones. He dropped the bag in front of him, and the body turned to Snape. As it spoke, flesh started to snap, ripping and tearing.

“Produce a cauldron,” Voldemort’s voice said. If Snape seemed hesitant, he was only for a moment as he took out his wand and produced a large, iron cauldron. The body nodded and addressed Voldemort’s followers. “The man you known as Yaxley is dead. He had graciously gave his life, blood, and magic for his Lord. I expect all of you to follow his example. I will return, more powerful than I ever was. Lucius, Yaxley was your friend, was he not? Do him the honor and put this body into the cauldron when I tell you to.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Lucius Malfoy said, stepping forward to stand next to the skeletal body.

“Wormtail, put the bones in,” Voldemort commanded. Wormtail followed, taking up the bag and emptying the bones and ash into the bottom of the cauldron. Voldemort smirked and said, “Wormtail, there is a dagger coated in Nagini’s poison in the desk drawer. Fetch it.”

“Y-Y-Yes, My Lord,” Wormtail stuttered. He nervously made his way to the desk and started opening drawers randomly, looking for the dagger. He found it at last and produce a beautiful silver dagger with an ivory handle. “H-Here it is, My Lord,” Wormtail said.

The Skeletal body did not look at Wormtail as he walked towards the cauldron. Instead he said, “Slit your throat, and fill the cauldron with your blood. It is the only task you are good for.”

“B-B-But my Lord,” Wormtail protested. “Please, show mercy…”

“Bellatrix, do what Wormtail is to cowardly to do. Kill him.”

Bellatrix simply smiled madly as she grabbed the neck of Wormtail’s neck and dragged him towards the cauldron. Wormtail struggled and tried to turn into a rat, only to find he couldn’t. Bellatrix had her husband and brother-in-law, Rodolphus and Rabastan, hold Wormtail over the cauldron’s edge. The rat continued to plea and cry as Bellatrix took the dagger from his grip and hugged it to his neck. With a clean and quick movement, his throat was slit and blood started to pour from his neck, coating and then submerging the bones already inside the cauldron.

The Skeletal body took up Voldemort’s wand and jabbed it at Wormtail’s body. The blood started to pour thicker, quicker out of the body, and minutes later it was completely drained. The Lestrange brothers casted the empty body aside as they and Bellatrix took a step back. “Lucius, if you would,” he said.

“Yes, my Lord,” Lucius said. He helped the body to his feet and slowly, they’ve began walking towards the cauldron, the blood and bone mixture already boiling.

“I suppose you would want to say your farewells to your friend,” Voldemort’s voice said. “It is understandable.”

“No my Lord,” Lucius said. “There are no goodbyes needed.”

“I see… put me into the cauldron,” Voldemort commanded. Lucius lifted the body, surprised at how light it was, and gently lowered it into the boiling cauldron. He took a couple of steps back as the cauldron began boiling angrily, jets of green light firing from the cauldron, scaring the Death Eaters as the light start destroying the room, burning anything it touched. The fires did not spread, however, and with a huge noise like a cannon going off, the cauldron exploded into millions of pieces, the Death Eaters lucky to not be hit by any of the flying fragments.

There, standing where the Cauldron stood was a handsome man, his hair black as night and perfectly neat, his eyes dark yet filled with uncontrollable evil and hatred. His body was slim, handsome, and as he spoke instead of the high, cold voice of his old form, his voice was deep, enchanting yet still murderous. “Lucius,” the man said, turning his dark eyes onto him. “My robe and wand.”

“Yes My Lord,” Lucius said. He moved towards the office desk and gently picked up his Lord’s robes and wand. The man took the black robe and wrapped it around his body, before picking up his wand. Bare-footed he walked towards the mirror, not caring about the shattered pieces of the cauldron, the pockets of fire, nor Wormtail’s body.

The man stopped before the mirror and examined his body. Lean, strong, as seductive as he remembered it being long ago. He smirked into the mirror and a low, cold, deep laugh escaped his throat. It seems the ritual gave him back his powers as well as his beauty. He could feel his power coursing through his veins, as well as Yaxley’s, and the multiple witches and wizards he had Yaxley consume during the past week. All of them combined, only to be dominated by Voldemort’s immense power. And with that power, came back his looks.

Lord Voldemort has been reborn, and for the first time in his life, Severus Snape knew true fear.


	9. Vicious Sexuality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Just want you guys to know that there is a giant graphic sex scene in this chapter! If you want to skip it, just read till the Room of Requirements, and skipped all the way down to the bottom where there's a break.

Chapter 9

Vicious Sexuality

“Headmaster,” Severus said, his face pale as he almost fell into Dumbledore’s office. It was still night a couple of weeks ago. Dumbledore said nothing as Snape composed himself, his face still stuck in a look of true terror. “The Dark Lord is back.”

 

Katie Bell was removed to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries the following day, by which time the news that she had been cursed spread all over the school, though the details were confused and nobody other than Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Leanne seemed to know that Katie herself had not been the intended target. After Hagrid brought Bell to the Hospital Wing, Leanne told Professor McGonagall what happened, explaining an argument between her and Katie as she suddenly gotten the package from the women’s loo and needed to give it to Dumbledore.

Draco Malfoy quickly made his way towards Harry and the gang, followed by Blaise, and immediately asked, “Harry! Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Harry asked.

“It’s just that Blaise and I heard about what happened,” Draco explained, a strange tint on his cheeks, and I… we were scared that either of you were hurt.”

“T-thanks Malfoy—err Draco,” Harry said. “We’re fine, only Katie was affected.”

“Who would do such a thing?” Blaise frowned. “I mean, is it true that the object was meant for Dumbledore?”

“Yes,” Hermione nodded. “That is what Leanne said.”

Both Slytherins nodded. Harry looked at them suspiciously and said, “You two wouldn’t know anything about this would you? Nothing strange going on?”

“What! No,” Draco said, as if insulted. “How could you even think either of us could be involved in something like that!?”

“I’m sorry, I’m not,” Harry said quickly, blushing at his embarrassment. “It’s just that… you sure you guys didn’t see anything weird? At all?”

“No, I haven’t,” Draco said, crossing his arms.

“Well… there is Theodore,” Blaise said thoughtfully.

“You mean Nott? What about him?”

“Well, you have to admit that he’s being more quiet this year,” Blaise shrugged. “I mean, we weren’t close but we were still on talking terms.”

“That could just be because of his workload Blaise,” Draco brushed away. “Besides, Nott a murderer? Ha! I’d expect Crabbe or Goyle to do something like that before soft Nott.”

“Err, who’s Nott?” Harry asked.

“Theodore Nott,” Draco answered. “He’s a quiet guy, our year. He’s about your height, black hair, head down. He used to hang out with me and Blaise, but stopped around third year. That was when he started hanging around the older years.”

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Blaise said, “But like Draco said, he’s a softie. Couldn’t hurt anyone.”

“Right…” Harry nodded, frowning to himself. He checked the time and cursed to himself. “I have to go! I have the les—err meeting with Dumbledore.”

“Alright, see ya Harry,” Ron said as Hermione said her goodbyes as well.

“Bye Harry,” Draco said, wanting to add “be safe” but stopped himself. He watched as Harry walked down the corridor, before disappearing round the corner. When he turned back, he saw Hermione standing in front of him.

“You know he’s dating someone right,” Hermione said, her sharp eyes on him.

“So? Why do I care about his social life,” Draco lied easily.

“Because you were the only one who stared at him as Harry left, Malfoy,” Hermione responded. “Look, Malfoy, Harry might have agreed to your ‘new leaf’ but I haven’t. I still don’t like you for all you’ve done to me.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Draco asked.

“Because Malfoy,” Hermione said coolly, “I just want you to know that if you try anything on Harry, I won’t be afraid of punching you.”

Draco chuckled. “I just want to be his friend, Granger, not ulterior motives here.”

“Yeah right, you actually believe that? Harry is perfectly happy right now with Seamus, thank you very much, and he doesn’t need you to ruin it,” Hermione said.

“He doesn’t need me ruining it,” Draco shrugged. He looked down at Hermione and said in a friendly, yet critical tone, “Have you seen Finnigan at all today? He should have been one of the first to know, after all he is Harry’s boyfriend, as well as a fellow Gryffindor. Has Finnigan been around to check if Harry is alright?”

“No, but how should I know, maybe he checked Harry in the boys’ dormitories,” Hermione suggested.

Draco nodded and looked at Ron. “Weasley, tell me, did Finnigan ask Harry if he was alright at all last night or this morning in the boys’ dormitory?”

“No, haven’t seen him since Hogsmeade,” Ron said.

Draco smirked and looked at Hermione, “Well?” he said.

“Well, maybe Seamus checked on Harry when we were separated,” Hermione said.

“Can’t be, we were with him all day,” Ron injected from his place in Blaise’s arms, the Incubus resting his head on top of Ron’s.

“Sounds like a shitty boyfriend to me,” Blaise mused. “As soon as I heard of it, I came running for Ron.”

“Yeah but…” Hermione began, trying to think of something to say. “Maybe Harry will run into him on his way to Dumbledore’s!”

“No, can’t,” Draco said shaking his head. “I’ve saw Finnigan ten minutes ago. He and Thomas were exiting an empty classroom in the dungeons.”

“But why would… no they can’t be! Dean’s dating Ginny, and Seamus with Harry,” Hermione gasped. “They’re going to be so sad when they find out… I don’t know what Harry will do!”

“He’ll probably cry a bit, and then curse out Finnigan,” Ron said. Draco nodded in agreement.

“Oh, we can’t tell Harry! Or should we? No, we can’t, this is something he has to work out with Seamus,” Hermione said, frowning as she started to pace, not knowing how to respond.

Draco just watched her performance for a bit before turning around, “Well, you can think all day about what you will do, but I already know what I will be doing.”

“And what’s that Malfoy?” Hermione asked, stopping in her place.

“Be his friend,” Draco said simply as he walked to leave, following Harry down the corridor, but turning the opposite way.

Hermione frowned as she turned to Ron. “We should tell him, we’re his friends.”

Ron disagreed. “I think it’s better if he finds out on his own here, Hermione. If we tell him… he might think we’re lying.”

“But why?”

“We’re guys,” Blaise said simply “We’re stupid to things like cheating and love. Once we want someone, we try to hold onto them for as long as possible.”

“I guess you’re right… I can’t deal with this right now, I have that essay for Professor McGonagall to finish. Are you coming Ron?”

“No, I think Blaise and I will hang out for a bit, I’ll be back later,” Ron said.

“Alright,” Hermione nodded. “See you later Ron. Goodbye Blaise.”

“See ya Hermione!” Blaise said smiling. As soon as she was gone, Blaise found his lips attacked by Ron, who used his strength to push the surprised Incubus against the wall.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to do that,” Ron breathed.

Blaise nodded and looked down at his precious mate and boyfriend. He knew he needed to tell Ron sooner and later about Neville… and considering they were alone, now seemed to be the perfect time. “Ron, there’s something I need to tell you,” he said seriously.

“What is it?” Ron asked.

Blaise sighed and looked at him. “You are my mate Ron, but you’re also an amazing boyfriend. And though we’ve only been together for such a short time, I’m already falling in love with you. And it’s because of that love that I need to tell you something.”

“What’s the matter Blaise? Why are you frowning?” Ron asked, scared.

“We Incubi, we need our mates to hold us down, keep us sexually sane, but there is something I’ve been hiding from you. … An Incubus doesn’t have one mate… we have two.”

“Two… you mean that…”

“Yes, I have another mate,” Blaise said.

Ron’s face paled before it started to redden, anger taking over. “And what!? I’m not good enough? Is that it? I’m not fucking good enough for your goddamn Incubus cock!?” He yelled, jealous tears welling in his eyes. Blaise tried to hush him, but Ron pushed him away, stepping back from the creature. “Of course, I’m never bloody good enough, aren’t I? Ron Weasley is never good enough for anything isn’t he? I’m—I’m always being pushed behind my best friend’s shadow because of the ruddy Dark Lord and now I’m being pushed aside for your new fuck!?”

“Ron it isn’t like that—“

“Shut up! Just shut up!” Ron yelled. “Charlie has his dragons, Bill’s a Curse Breaker who gets to go to Egypt, fucking Percy gets more money than Dad at the Ministry and the twins have their shop! Even Ginny is better at spells than me! What does that leave me with? Good at chess? Fuck that, I’m the worst in my family! I’ve got nothing! Absolutely nothing! So when I learned that you wanted me—that I was an Incubus’s mate—I finally thought I finally had something. But you ruined it by saying that I’m not enough for you!”

Ron threw up his hands, his body moving and trembling with a mixture of anger and jealousy. He turned, punched the stone wall, and the pain finally breaking the barrier that held his tears as he broke down. Blaise wanted to help him, but couldn’t move as Ron cried bitter tears. The two stood there, Ron crying and Blaise powerless to do anything. Ron’s tears echoed down the empty corridor, and it broke Blaise’s heart. He didn’t know how to feel. He loved Ron! And he loved Neville, even though they did not have a conversation yet. He loved both his mates and yet… he was breaking one mate’s heart at the mention of the other.

Suddenly, Ron turned around, his tears gone, his cheeks still red, and his voice monotone as he said, “Fuck me. Fuck me Blaise. Fuck me, mate me, show me that you still care.”

“Ron, I can’t,” Blaise said. “In need to mate with you two at the same time. No one person can handle it.”

“I can handle it!” Ron yelled. “Give me everything. _Everything_. Do not hold back. If you love me the way I love you, you would do this Blaise. …Please,” he begged, his voice pitching.

Blaise looked at Ron, considering his offer carefully. “Are you sure Ron? Once we start, I will not stop and neither will you. Your body will be pushed beyond your limitations. I might break you Ron. Are you sure you want this?”

“Break me,” Ron said, his eyes stubborn as he stared at Blaise. His boyfriend sighed, but nodded. “Alright. I’ll try to hold back—“

“No! Do not hold back,” Ron said. “I can take it.”

“Very well,” Blaise frowned. He grabbed Ron’s hand in his and kissed it. “Come on, we need to find somewhere quiet where they won’t find us. We’ll be there all night.”

“I know where, follow me,” Ron said, his voice giving no room for Blaise to argue. The Incubus nodded and allowed Ron to lead him away from the corridor and into the grand staircase. The two climbed towards the Seventh floor, and Ron turned left into the corridor. Both were silent as they walked down the corridor, stopping at a tapestry depicting the attempts of Barnabus the Barmy teaching trolls ballet. Blaise tried to look around curiously before Ron started walking again, his hand holding tightly onto Blaise’s. Blaise followed obediently, not questioning as they passed the same tapestry once, twice, three times. On the third time they both stopped and Ron pointed at a door on the stone wall opposite of the tapestry that Blaise didn’t notice before. “Room of Requirement. We used it last year for Dumbledore’s Army,” was Ron explanation as the two walked into the room.

The room was small and dimly lit. A fireplace provided light, as well as a hanging torch as attention was brought to the center where a large bed stood. The bed was a four-posted bed with chains attached to each one. Blaise looked to his left and saw row after row of sex toys, paddles, whips, and any other naughty sexual object imaginable. He smirked at himself as he learned how much of a bad boy his mate seemed to be. Ron began walking to the toys when Blaise said, “Stop. We’re not using them.”

“What do—“

“My Incubus thinks it’s an insult you need those stupid toys to get off while we’re here,” Blaise said. He looked at them again with a sneer. “We will not be using them tonight. Do not look at them, understand?”

“Yes Sir,” Ron said.

“Don’t call me that,” Blaise said. “I hate that. You know my name, use it. Not ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’ and not even ‘Daddy’ … especially not ‘Daddy,’” Blaise’s face curled a bit in disgust. “I am Blaise, and you are Ron. That’s it. Got it?”

“Yes Blaise,” Ron said. “I just thought that… well since you said everything…

“Good, but I’m not into that stuff. So next time, just the bed will do.” Blaise smiled. “Now strip. Trust me, it’ll be easier than having my Incubus tearing your clothes to shreds.” Ron nodded and obeyed, shrugging off his robes and pulling off his tie before unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his sun-kissed, lean, freckled-covered body. Blaise started to do the same, revealing compact muscles and abs. When they were both naked, it was obvious who the Dominant was, and who was the submissive. Blaise couldn’t help but smirk as Ron’s eyes stared at his flaccid cock. “Don’t be bashful about it Ron. Eleven inches all for you tonight, though tonight you will be dealing with the bigger one.”

“Bigger one?”

“To mate, I need to fuck you in my creature form, as an Incubus. But don’t worry Ron, I promise you, you’ll love every single inch of it.”

Ron moaned, his cock hardening at the thought of it. Blaise smirked and walked towards Ron. He grabbed Ron’s cock, squeezing it roughly. “Do you want to see it Ron? Do you want to see my big, hard, Incubus cock?” he breathed in Ron’s ear.

Ron nodded, “Y-Yeah,”

“Say it,” Blaise commanded, growling as he gave Ron a harsh jerk. “Say ‘I want to see your huge Incubus cock, Blaise.’”

“I-I-I want to see your huge Incubus cock, Blaise,” Ron moaned. Blaise smiled cockily and patted Ron’s ass. “Good boy,” he said. Blaise kissed Ron, biting his lip roughly before pulling back, Ron’s lips trapped between his teeth. There was a small cut, but that only made Ron moan as Blaise took a couple of steps back, and began to transform.

An Incubus’s body is sex incarnate. Though he did not grow taller, Blaise’s muscles became more define, his skin turning darker as his pearly white teeth in his smirk became sharper. Two small horns started to poke their way onto Blaise’s forehead, showing through his hair, which became suave and sleeked back. Ron gasped as he saw a tail forming behind Blaise, the tail itself slender and long, curling into the air and around his waist, the arrowhead pointed straight at Ron. Leathery wings began to grow as well, the frame of them the same nightshade color as Blaise’s skin, while the rest of the wings were a lustful red. But the thing that Ron paid most attention to was Blaise’s cock. The once flaccid cock quickly hardened, and as he promised before, it grew to eleven inches in length, but it continued to grow. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen inches it grown to, then it started to thicken. Ron’s own cock was at a bursting point staring at Blaise’s thick, large cock. The natural aroma Blaise had became more powerful, and for a moment Ron could only think of Blaise’s cock, needing it in his mouth, or ass as he stared at it almost hypnotically.

The Incubus chuckled darkly as he stepped forward, his cock pointed hard at Ron. “Well, my sweet submissive… what do you think?”

Ron couldn’t say anything, his eyes too absorbed on Blaise’s body, pre-cum already coming out of his own dick. “No, no, we can’t have that, can we?” Blaise said. His tail unwrapped around his waist and darted for Ron’s cock. The tail wrapped around the cock tightly, and the tip of the arrowhead plunged into Ron’s cock. He thought he would feel pain, but he only felt pure pleasure as he felt something weird coming out of the tail. Blaise chuckled as he continued to walk forward, his tail still trapping Ron’s cock. When they were chest-to-chest, Blaise took Ron’s chin and made their eyes connect. “Who am I?” the Incubus asked.

“B-Blaise,” Ron moaned as the tail wrapped around his cock seemed to start pulsing in beat with his heart. “Y-You’re an incubus. My—my—“

“Say it Ron,” Blaise purred.

“My Dominant,” Ron said. Blaise hummed and nodded. Then, without warning, he pulled his tail out of Ron and unwrapped his cock. Ron looked down to see his cock was still the same, but something felt different.

“For tonight, your cock is mine Ron,” Blaise said, pressing his chest against Ron, whispering in his ear. “You will only cum when I tell you to Ron. Don’t worry, you will come, many times tonight, but only by my command. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Blaise,” Ron said.

“Good,” the Incubus said before assaulting Ron’s lips. The kissers were rougher, fiercer as they backed towards the bed. Blaise’s hard cock was pressed against Ron’s stomach always as the Incubus wrapped his arms around Ron, and he felt sharp nails scratching at him. That only seemed to excite him more as he lost himself in the kiss, needing the bites and scratches Blaise gave him.

Blaise’s wings seemed to fold around them as they kissed. Blaise always keeping Ron beneath him on the bed, allowing his wings to fully surround Ron, to show his jealous mate that he was Blaise’s. His human was apprehensive to give Ron everything he can offer, but not the Incubus. The Incubus was concern for his mate, but he was also excited to show Ron how good a lover he is, how divine his cock tastes and feels. How heavenly and addicting his seed is. The Incubus wanted to show Ron everything, and tonight, he had the chance.

Blaise pulled roughly from Ron and looked down on him. “An Incubus’s mate needs to be an excellent cocksucker in bed,” he growled. Ron’s eyes shot towards Blaise’s cock. There was no way he could fit that inside him! But instead of the cock, Blaise’s tail appeared in Ron’s vision. “Suck,” he commanded.

Ron opened his mouth and licked the appendage. It was warm, heavy, yet it tasted like the lustful, hypnotic aroma that Blaise smelt like. Ron loved it immediately. His tongue lapped and swirled around the tipped tail, moaning as the edges turned out to be curved, not sharp as he first thought of. “Only my mate can touch my tail and live Ron,” Blaise informed, pushing his tail deeper into Ron’s mouth so half of the arrowhead was in it. “To you it is heavy and perfect like a cock. But for anyone else, it will cut, sharp enough to cut stones in two. This is a powerful thing in your mouth Ron, respect it.”

And respect it, Ron did. Though it seemed wide, half a foot like Blaise’s cock, Ron found that the more he worshiped and licked Blaise’s tail, the easier it was for him to take more of it inside him. Ron’s jaw opened wider and wider, his lips expanding over the dark appendage, milking it as if cum was about to come out. That caused Blaise to laugh. “Ron, if you want my cum so badly, you’re sucking the wrong thing.”

“Please,” Ron found himself begging, the tail resting against his cheek. “Please give me your cock, Blaise!”

“Alright then. On your knees, it’s easier,” Blaise said. He and Ron moved off of the bed, and Ron immediately got onto his knees, eyelevel with his objective. Blaise stood over him, his arms crossed his defined and muscular chest. “Get to it Ron,” he said.

Ron nodded and grabbed for Blaise’s cock. He needed two hands to wrap fully around the shaft and that was when he noticed that Blaise’s balls also grew, now the size of two grapefruits. They smelt of musky and sex, and that just dove Ron deeper into the lustful drive that he was already in. He licked Blaise’s cock from base to head, getting it slick and wet with his tongue everywhere as he placed random kisses. Ron felt Blaise’s tail rubbed against his ass cheeks, pushing past the crack as it exposed Ron’s virgin hole. “You have some hair here Ron… I like it,” Blaise chuckled as Ron slipped his lips around the head of his cock. Ron just hummed in pleasure at Blaise’s compliment, happy that his Incubus approved. He started to lick and move slowly on Blaise’s cock as Blaise’s tail worked on his ass. When Ron felt he was ready, he started to take more of Blaise’s cock into his mouth. He expected his gag reflex to kick in soon, but it didn’t. Inch by inch, Blaise’s cock disappeared into Ron’s mouth, until hitting the back of his throat seven inches in. That was all he could take, swallowing rapidly as he jaw widened, his lips spread out against the cock.

“You look so pretty Ron,” Blaise moaned. His hands moved from his chest to Ron’s head. “Don’t worry, for the first time, this is good enough. Now—“ His tail that was playing with Ron’s hole suddenly thrust inside of him. Ron screamed around the cock, the pain overwhelming in for a moment before pleasure began again. His own cock bouncing pathetically as pre-cum tried to escape. “Suck.” Blaise commanded again. And without Blaise’s hands to force him, Ron started to pull out, before going back down on Blaise’s cock again, only able to get half of it in his mouth. Blaise’s tail matched Ron’s pace, going slowly in and out of his ass, his hole greedily sucking in the tail as the arrowhead pierce and stretched him. Ron moved his ass back, wanting more of the tail inside him, but Blaise stopped and gave Ron a light slap on his cheek. “No, no Ron. You want more of my tail fucking you, then you get more of my cock inside you. That’s the only rule here,” Blaise growled.

Ron moaned, but nodded. He could only seven inches of Blaise’s cock inside his mouth, so he was forced to deal with only seven inches of Blaise’s tail in his ass. But, to compensate Ron started to move faster, swallow bigger as his lips scrapped against Blaise’s black cock, his tongue following veins as it wrapped around the underside of it. Blaise moaned and closed his eyes as he started thrusting against Ron. The head of his cock started hitting the back of Ron’s throat, ramming into it multiple times as his tail rammed his ass. “Fuck Ron!” Blaise groaned. “I’ll make a cocksucker out of you night! Y-Yes! Fuck!” His hips were always in motion, fucking Ron’s mouth savagely, but only keeping it at seven inches in. Ron gagged and swallowed, but soon learned to breathe through his nose as Blaise abused his mouth. The Incubus kept this pace for minutes, sweat starting to glisten with sweat as Blaise’s hands tightened in Ron’s hair, keeping him in place. Blaise’s balls swung in the air, and Ron’s hands moved to massage them, to grab them to milk them: needing the pure cum that they held onto so tightly. Then, with a roar that Ron loved, Blaise came inside his mouth, ropes and ropes of the addictive Incubus seed filling the back of Ron’s throat, sliding down into his stomach, filling it. Most of the cum filled his mouth as well, and Blaise had to pull his tail from Ron’s ass roughly, earning a yelp in pain, as it rested under his cock and Ron’s lower lip, being drenched in the cum-saliva mixture that escaped his lips.

“Don’t waste my cum Ron, you need to swallow every drop,” Blaise informed him as he pulled his still hard cock out. Ron nodded and greedily lapped up the cum that fell on Blaise’s tail. He looked up at the Incubus and smiled when he saw a look of approval, as well as the fact that he was still just as hard as when they started.

“This,” Blaise said pointing to his cock, “will not even soften one inch until I am fully satisfied Ron. This is what I warned you about. You should have listened. Now, since I rewarded you with cum, it is now time for a punishment.”

“P-Punishment?” Ron asked.

“Yes, for not listening for when I told you that you cannot handle this by yourself. You were a bad lion for doing that Ron, and bad lions need to be spanked. Don’t you agree?” Blaise said seductively.

Ron nodded dumbly and followed Blaise back towards the bed, laying over his lap, his ass offered perfectly as his and Blaise’s cocks rubbed against each other. Blaise’s sharp hand rested on Ron’s freckled, harry ass as his other hand soothed Ron’s back. “Now, I think twenty will do, don’t you Ron?” Blaise asked sweetly.

“Yes, Blaise,” Ron said.

“Good,” the Incubus said. “Count them out. Loudly.” And before Ron could agree, there was a stinging pain as Blaise spanked him. “One!” he said.

 _Smack_. “Two.” _Smack_. “Three.” _Smack_. “Four.” Blaise kept alternating butt cheeks as he spanked Ron. Ron’s numbers came out as a mixture of yelps of pain and pleasure as Blaise left no rest between hits. _Smack_. “Eight.” _Smack_. “Nine.” _SMACK_. “TEN!” Ron yelled out. It seemed as if Blaise used his full strength for that one. Tears welled in Ron’s eyes, he just knew his ass was red, and had two distinct hand-marks on them as Blaise made sure to hit the same spot. Blaise stopped, and soothed Ron, rubbing calming circles on his butt. “There, there,” he whispered. “Half way down Ron, you are doing great. Keep this up, and you’ll earn something else,” Blaise whispered. Ron just nodded and whimpered, pushing his cock against Blaise’s.

Blaise chuckled, “Soon Ron, soon, we still need to prepare you. Now, I want you to do me a favor. Take your hands, and spread these pretty cheeks for me. Show me that hairy hole.”

Ron was confused, but he did as Blaise told him too, his hands reaching back and grabbed his ass to reveal his pulsing, slightly loosened, hole. “Good. Now… what number are we on Ron?”

“You just did ten,” Ron responded, his voice lustful despite the stings on his ass.

“Alright,” Blaise said. “Come on, let’s finish this.” Blaise raised his hand and spanked Ron directly on his hole. Ron yelped, but counted. Blaise continued this, hitting the exact same spot that caused Ron to yelp in pain over and over again until finally Ron reached twenty.

Blaise smiled and told Ron to relax against the bed, keeping his cheeks open. Ron did so, and Blaise slid off from under him, his cock sliding against Ron’s again as he got off the bed and stood in front of Ron. Ron felt happy, thinking that he was finally going to get Blaise’s cock. Ron looked up to see the tail hovering right in front of him, and he opened readily and happily took the tail in his mouth as he waited for Blaise’s cock in his ass. But it never came. Instead, he felt Blaise rest against his ass, kissing gently where he had earlier spanked. Blaise’s hands rested on top of Ron’s, and Ron shivered as he felt Blaise’s wet tongue drag across his asshole. Ron moaned as Blaise continued to drag his tongue across his hole, the tongue darting around and flexing as it probed, but never pump into Ron’s hole. Then, finally, Blaise’s tongue darted into Ron’s hole and swiveled around, causing Ron to make noises he never thought he could make.

Blaise ate him out, alternating between licks and bites as both he and Ron kept his cheeks open. “You taste amazing Ron,” Blaise said before diving into it again. Ron couldn’t reply, he was just a babbling mess, noises and syllables escaping his mouth around Blaise’s tail, his eyes rolling. Ron’s once tight hole became relaxed under Blaise’s touch. When Blaise lifted from Ron’s ass he smiled at his work, teeth marks surrounding the hole and all over the ass. Some had pearls of blood coming out, but Blaise knew that they would heal easily. He withdrew his tail from Ron’s mouth and massaged Ron’s back. “Alright Ron. Time for what you waited for,” he smirked. “Get on all fours.

Ron moved quickly, and got to the middle of the bed, his ass arched up as he laid on all fours. Blaise followed and gave Ron’s ass a couple of smacks before moving his cock, stroking it a couple of times. The head rested on Ron’s opening hole, and he said, “Ron, here’s how this time is going to work. Once I’m in, I’m not stopping till I’m all the way in. Don’t worry, I’ll go slow and wait till you adjust. Okay?”

“Yes,” Ron moaned, pushing his butt against the head. That earned him another slap, and he whimpered.

“Wait Ron, wait,” Blaise said. He started to push, and Ron moaned as he felt the head forcing itself into the ring of muscles. His ass was forced to expand quickly, tears welling in his eyes. “S-So big!” he moaned. The head slipped in with a pop, and Ron’s ass muscles parted like a sea as Blaise’s huge, fat cock slid further and further into the warm velvet. Inch by inch Blaise’s cock disappeared in Ron’s greedy hole, until finally, after sixteen excruciating inches, his huge balls lightly slapped against Ron’s ass. Ron’s breath hitched with each inch, and by the time he felt Blaise’s balls hit him, he felt like he was being split in two.

Blaise’s tail wrapped around Ron’s waist. Both boys breathed, sweat falling from their bodies as they waited. Ron needed time to adjust to Blaise’s massive girth, not knowing how it even fitted inside of him. Blaise’s tipped tail petted him, soothing Ron as he relaxed, and the pain started to leave. “There we go… good… take your time…” Blaise muttered.

Ron nodded and took several breaths before he looked back at Blaise. “I’m ready,” he said. Blaise smiled and started to move slowly. Blaise pulled out until it was only his head that was still inside Ron, then he started moving back in, his balls again smacking Ron’s ass lightly. Blaise done this several time, each time his pace moving quicker and quicker. The room was filled with the wet sound of Blaise’s cock hitting Ron’s hole, and Ron’s constant moaning. Blaise’s hands strapped onto Ron’s waist and he pulled Ron roughly towards him with a growl, his demeanor changing. Gone was the gentle Blaise that made sure Ron was ready, and here instead was the sexual Incubus who wanted to satisfied his and Ron’s cravings.

Blaise’s tail entered Ron’s mouth again, going deep into his throat as Blaise pulled Ron up, his wings surrounding both of them. Ron bounced on Blaise’s thrusts, the tail and cock entering an erotic, furious rhythm, as one enters Ron’s body and the other leaves. Ron could do nothing, all control of his body was given over to Blaise and he allowed it. Blaise growled in Ron’s ear, “Touch your body!” And Ron obeyed, his hands sliding across his skin, nails digging in at places before gliding to the next area. Blaise’s animalistic pants filled Ron’s mind, knowing that soon he would get what he wanted, what he needed. What he craved for!

He felt another sting as Blaise spanked him again and the Incubus said, “Jerk yourself off. But don’t you dare cum until I do!”

Ron made a sound of agreement, his moans turning into high, ecstatic mewls and pants. Ron felt he was becoming an animal of sex too, all logic, all worries, and all consequences slowly drifting out of him as Blaise fucked him with his thick cock. His hand slid down his stomach to his own cock, fingers getting tangled in ginger pubes before gripping the base. Ron started to masterbate, matching Blaise’s thrust as it became more and more uncontrollable. Blaise rested his mouth on Ron’s collarbone, and as he fucked Ron’s ass and mouth he bite, hard. Blood seemed from Blaise’s mouth as he screamed, making his mate forever as he came inside Ron’s ass. Ron screamed around Blaise’s tail as he also came, thick ropes of cum hitting Blaise’s wings as he continued to ride Blaise’s cock, cum dripping and coating it as it falls out of Ron’s ass.

Again, after he was done, Ron slid off, reveling in the sticky feeling of Blaise’s cum inside him, and he automatically turned to lick Blaise’s cock clean, as if it were an instinct. Blaise, meanwhile, moved a hand to his wing and started to clean it, wiping the cum off of the wing and licking his finger clean. Ron felt exhausted, spent, and thought they were done. But still, Blaise’s cock was still hard and needed services. “We are far from over Ron,” Blaise chuckled. “Not until I fill every space within you with my seed. Suck.”

Ron obeyed, tired, and he continued to suck Blaise’s cock, finding that this time he reached ten of the fifteen inches in his mouth. He was rewarded with ten inches of Blaise’s tail fucking his loose ass, pushing the cum deeper inside of him. They’ve continued this for the rest of the night. There was always something inside Ron, either the tail or the cock, and every time Blaise came thick hot ropes of cum that never seemed to stop, and each time Ron licked and cleaned Blaise’s tail and cock, never letting a drop of cum fall onto the bed.

The sheets were drenched in their sweat, dark pools showing underneath their bodies as Blaise repeatedly fucked Ron’s mouth and ass. His lips started to puff, and his throat started to became sore, but there was no pain. Things that were supposed to give him pain, the scratches, the spanks, the stretching only gave Ron more and more pleasure until he felt like he was going to burst. And the only thing that was keeping him together was Blaise. After the first hour, he always wanted Blaise touching him, after the second he didn’t want Blaise’s lips to leave him as he clawed his back and stomach. After the sixth hour Ron was in a lustful daze, his body was covered with cum and sweat, aching all over for rest, but his mind and cock wanted to go on, needed to go on. They needed to show Blaise that he was enough! He was enough! Ron lost count how many times they’ve done it. He lost count after he was able to fully swallow Blaise’s cock into his throat. All he knew was that his ass, his stomach, everywhere was filled with cum, and after the last rope spurted into his ass, Blaise gave a soft murmur as he pulled out, his cock slowly softening. Ron at that point was on his back, his legs being held by those chains connected to the post. Blaise licked and kissed Ron’s ass for one last time, before undoing the chains and gently letting Ron’s legs fell.

He didn’t know what Blaise had said, but he found himself resting against the Incubus’s chest, the wings folded protectively around both of them, and finally they both drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

 

The next morning, he woke up and looked around. The redhead frowned at himself because for some reason, he couldn’t remember his name. He couldn’t remember anything really. Well, that’s not true, there was one thing that he did remembered, and that was the beautiful angel of an Incubus that showed him the way last night. Yes! The Incubus! He fell asleep on the Incubus, that would mean… the redhead looked down and smiled when he saw the cock, laying peacefully on the Incubus’s leg. He needed it, he wanted it, he craved it. He couldn’t remember anything, but he remembered how good it felt having that thing inside him! He looked down at his body, marveling at the stratches the Incubus left, as well as the bites. His hole was still loose, and he could feel his body absorbing all the cum in his stomach and ass. Yes, this is what he wanted! This is what he needed! This is what he lived for!

“Ron…Ron!” The Incubus yelled out, looking down at him. The redhead looked up at him with dazed eyes. Ron? Who was Ron? That wasn’t him. He had no name.

“Ron! Focus, focus Ron come on! Listen to my voice. It’s me, Blaise, come on now!” the Incubus said again.

Blaise… that sounded familiar. “Blaise…” the redhead said slowly. Then, as if opening a key, everything came back. His name, his memories, everything of his life came back to him. “Blaise… the hell happened!? I forgot my name, who I was—all I could think about was sucking your dick again!”

Blaise looked down at his boyfriend with sympathetic eyes. “I’m sorry Ron that was totally my fault,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Ron asked.

“It’s because I need two mates Ron,” Blaise said. “The lust that I emit is too much for one person, it doesn’t matter who. If… if we kept going with just the two of us, you’ll start losing your memory permanently. You’ll forget who you are, who your family is, who I am even, you’ll just become an empty husk that only exist for sex. You’ll become addicted to my Incubus, and become basically a thoughtless sexual slave. I don’t want that Ron, the thought scares me, scares my Incubus. I thought… I thought if I show you my true power, then you’ll understand why I need him. I’m so sorry Ron, I really am.”

Tears started to show under Blaise’s tears. Ron frowned, he didn’t want to see Blaise crying. He leaned up and kissed Blaise’s cheek. “Give me time,” he said. “I can’t accept this right away, but I don’t want to lose my mind either, yeah? Just… give me time to… to get used to the idea that, that there’s going to be another.”

“Even though there’s going to be another mate, doesn’t mean I’ll love you even less Ron,” Blaise said. “You were my first, I chose to go after you first Ron. I love you both equally, but you will always be my first. Do you understand?”

“Yeah… I think I do,” Ron sighed. Blaise smiled. Ron looked up at him, and asked the question he dreaded asking. “Who is he? Your other mate?”

“A boy you know very well, Ron,” Blaise said, kissing the top of Ron’s head. “Neville Longbottom.”


	10. Jealousy and Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter to get the ball rolling.

Chapter 10

Jealousy and Lies

Voldemort was alive. That thought drifted through his head after his lesson with Dumbledore. Voldemort was alive, and according to Dumbledore, he was more powerful than ever before. Dumbledore had showed him his memories, looking at a young Lord Voldemort as he was when Dumbledore went to show him his Hogwarts letter. A strange fear crept inside him, and he needed his boyfriend’s presence. But for some reason, Seamus was nowhere to be found. He frowned. The last time Harry saw Seamus was before he left to save Dean from Ginny. Harry looked for Seamus the next day before breakfast, but he wasn’t there as well.

He was also unable to tell Ron and Hermione about his lesson with Dumbledore over breakfast for fear of being overheard, but he filled them in as they walked across the vegetable patch towards the greenhouses. Harry noticed that, for some reason, Ron was in a mood. He looked at Hermione for an explanation, but she just shrugged.

“Wow, scary thought, the boy You-Know-Who,” Ron said quietly, as they took their places around one of the gnarled Snargaluff stumps that formed this term’s project, and began pulling on their protective gloves. “But I still don’t get why Dumbledore’s showing you all this. I mean, it’s really interesting and everything, but what’s the point?”

“Dunno,” Harry said, inserting a gum shield. “But he says it’s all important and it’ll help me survive. Now that he’s back and all.”

“I think it’s fascinating,” Hermione said earnestly. “It makes absolute sense to know as much about Voldemort as possible. How else will you find out his weaknesses?”

“So how was Slughorn’s latest party?” Harry asked her thickly through the gum shield.

“Oh, it was quite fun, really,” Hermione said, now putting on protective goggles. “I mean, he drones on about famous ex-pupils a bit, and he absolutely _fawns_ on McLaggen because he’s so well-connected, but he gave us some really nice food and he introduced us to Gwenog Jones.”

“The Gwenog Jones! Captain of the Holyhead Harpies?”

“That’s right,” Hermione said. “Personally, I thought she was a bit full of herself, but—“

“Quite enough chat over here!” Professor Sprout said briskly, bustling over and looking stern. “You’re lagging behind, everybody else has started, and Neville’s already got his first pod!”

They looked around; sure enough, there sat Neville with a bloody lip and several nasty scratches along the side of his face, but clutching an unpleasantly pulsating green object about the size of a grapefruit. Ron glared at him, his fists tight as his eyes slanted. “Okay, Professor, we’re starting now!” He said a bit viciously.

They all took deep breaths and then dived at the gnarled stump between them. It sprang to life at once; long, prickly, bramblelike wines flew out of the top and whipped through the air. One tangled itself in Hermione’s hair, and Ron beat it back with a pair of secateurs viciously; Harry succeeded in trapping a couple of vines and knotting them together; a hole opened in the middle of all the tentaclelike branches; Hermione plunged her arm bravely into this hole, which closed like a trap around her elbow; Harry and Ron tugged and wrenched at the vines, forcing the hole to open again, and Hermione snatched her arm free, clutching in her fingers a pod just like Neville’s. At once, the prickly vines shot back inside, and the gnarled stump sat there looking like an innocently dead lump of wood.

“You know, I don’t think I’ll be having any of these in my garden when Blaise and I got our own place,” Ron said, pushing up his goggles onto his forehead and wiping sweat from his face.

“Pass me a bowl,” Hermione said, holding the pulsating pod at arm’s length; Harry handed one over and she dropped the pod into it with a look of disgust on her face.

“Don’t be squeamish, squeeze it out, they’re best when they’re fresh!” Professor Sprout called.

“Anyway,” Hermione said, continuing their interrupted conversation as though a lump of wood had not just attacked them, “Slughorn’s going to have a Christmas party, Harry, and there’s no way you’ll be able to wriggle out of this one because he actually asked me to check your free evenings, so he could be sure to have it on a night you can come.”

Harry groaned. Meanwhile, Ron, who was attempting to burst the pod in the bowl by putting both hands on it, standing up, and squashing it as hard as he could, angrily said, “And this is another party just for Slughorn’s favorites is it!?”

“Just for the Slug Club, yes,” Hermione said.

The pod flew out from under Ron’s fingers and hit the greenhouse glass, rebounding onto the back of Professor Sprout’s head and knocking off her old, patched hat. Harry went to retrieve it.

“ _Slug Club_ ,” Ron said vemonishly to Hermione. “What a stupid name.”

“Look, I didn’t make up the name ‘Slug Club’—“

“Slug Club,” Ron repeated with a sneer worthy of Draco. “It’s pathetic. I hope you enjoy your party. I know Blaise will with Longbottom. Why don’t you try hooking up with McLaggen, then Slughorn can make you King and Queen Slug—“

“We’re allowed to bring guests,” Hermione said, who’s face turned a bright boiling scarlet, “and I was going to ask you to come if Blaise didn’t. But if you think it’s that stupid then I won’t bother!”

Harry suddenly wished the pod had flown a little farther, so that he need not to been sitting here with the pair of them. Unnoticed by either, he seized the bowl that contained the pod and began to try and open it by the noisiest and most energetic means he could think of; unfortunately he could still hear every word of their conversation.

“You were going to ask me” Ron asked in a completely different voice.

“Yes,” Hermione said angrily. “But obviously if you’d rather _I hooked up with McLaggen_ …”

There was a pause while Harry continued to pound the resilient pod with a trowel.

“No, I wouldn’t,” Ron said in a very quiet voice. “It’s just Blaise…”

Harry missed the pod, hit the bowl, and shattered it.

“Reparo,” he said hastily, poking the pieces with his wand, and the bowl sprang back together again. The crash, however, appeared to have awoken Ron and Hermione to Harry’s presence. Hermione looked flustered and immediately started fussing about for her copy of _Flesh-Eating Trees of the World_ to find out the correct way to juice Snargaluff pods; Ron, on the other hand, looked sheepish but still rather mad.

“Hand that over, Harry,” Hermione said hurriedly. “It says we’re supposed to puncture them with something sharp. …”

Harry passed the pod in the bowl; he and Ron both snapped their goggles back over their eyes and dived, once more for the stump. Ron seemed to attack the stump with an aggressiveness that Harry had never seen before, and he wondered if there was something between him and Hermione, or worst, him and Blaise. Would whatever happen be enough to break Ron’s and Hermione’s friendship? Harry remember the few weeks when they had not been talking to each other in the third year; he had not enjoyed trying to bridge the distance between them.

“Gotcha!” Ron yelled, pulling a second pod from the stump just as Hermione managed to burst the first one open, so that the bowl was full of tubers wriggling like pale green worms.

The rest of the lesson passed without further mention of Slughorn’s party. Although Harry watched his two friends more closely over the next few days, Ron and Hermione did not seem any different. In the meantime, however, he had more pressing worries.

Katie Bell was still in St. Mungo’s Hospital with no prospect of leaving, which meant that the promising Gryffindor team Harry had been training so carefully since September was one Chaser short. Harry did not think he could stand another full-House tryout, so he cornered Dean Thomas after Transfiguration one day. Most of the class had already left, although several twittering yellow birds were still zooming around the room, all of Hermione’s creation; nobody else had succeeded in conjuring so much as a feather from thin air.

“Are you still interested in playing Chaser?”

“Wha—? Yeah, of course!” Dean said excitedly. Over Dean’s shoulder, Harry saw Seamus slamming his books into his bag, looking sour. Harry felt a tiny twinge of guilt, but Dean outflown Seamus at the tryouts.

“Well then, you’re in,” Harry said. “There’s a practice tonight, seven o’clock.”

“Right,” Dean said. “Cheers, Harry! Blimey, I can’t wait to tell Ginny!”

He sprinted out of the room, leaving Harry and Seamus along together, an uncomfortable moment. “Really?” Seamus grunted. “You picked him over your boyfriend?”

“What? It’s best for the team!” Harry argued. “Dean outflown you.”

“Oh, so you just recruit him right in front of me?” Seamus yelled. “Wow Harry, what a great boyfriend you are.”

Harry was shocked, “You seriously saying _that_ to _me_? Where the hell were you a few days ago when Katie was cursed?”

“What are you talking about? You were fine,” Seamus argued.

“Yeah, but still you didn’t come to check? Blaise did for Ron.”

“Don’t compare me to a Slytherin,” Seamus said annoyed. “I’m sorry I was busy, but I’ve came to check on you afterwards!”

“Yeah, after I told you what happened,” Harry said. “After you already heard from fucking Dean!”

“What does Dean have to with any of this?”

“I don’t know, you tell me!” Harry yelled.

“What are you talking about Harry?”

“It’s always you and fucking Dean,” Harry said frustrated. “When we went to Hogsmeade, you’ve left me for Dean—“

“To get him away from Ginny—“

“Yeah, and why would you do that for him—“

“Because he asked me to—“

“So you would do anything for Dean it seems, but when your fucking boyfriend is in trouble, you just ignore it?” Harry asked.

“Why you yelling at me for? I’m not the only one at wrong!”

“What you talking about—“

“Malfoy.” Seamus stated. “All I hear from you lately is ‘Malfoy this’ and ‘Malfoy that.’”

“Yeah, well that’s because I’ve been spending time with him because I couldn’t find my _boyfriend_ anywhere,” Harry yelled.

Seamus gave a harsh laugh. “Are you sure Harry? Cause it seems to be that you’ve been with your _boyfriend_ all that time.”

“What are you talking about Seamus?”

“You snogging with Malfoy?” Seamus demanded, “Because I don’t like how much time you’re spending with that prat.”

“I don’t like how much time you’re spending with Dean,” Harry countered.

Both boys glared at each other, a tense silence falling between them. Seamus broke the silence with an annoyed groan. “Harry, we’re shitty, shitty boyfriends for each other.”

Harry glared at him for a while before sighing in defeat, “…yeah,” he agreed.

They both looked at each other, seeing the other in a different light. “Guess we’re horrible for each other,” Harry said. Seamus nodded in agreement. “So… Dean?”

“Using Ginny in the open while shagging me,” Seamus admitted. “Sorry, for you using you too.”

Harry just looked at him, heartbroken. “I really liked you Seamus, seriously.”

“I know.”

“And you just ignored me for Dean.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you just break up with me and be with Dean?” Harry asked. Seamus shrugged. “I dunno,” he said.

Harry shook his head and looked at Seamus. “Dean’s on the team, you’re not. And we’re single.”

“Yeah… we are…”

Harry left the room angry at himself and Seamus. Annoyed, he returned to the Common Room, only to find more people disgruntled by the choice of Katie’s substitute. The House was annoyed that Harry chose two of his classmates, but he was happy with his decision. Even though he didn’t see Dean in a pleasant light at the moment, he worked well with Ginny and Demelza. The Beaters, Peakes and Coote, were getting better all the time. The only problem was Ron.

Harry had known all along that Ron was an inconsistent player who suffered from nerves and a lack of confidence, and unfortunately, the looming prospect of the opening game of the season seemed to have brought out all of his old insecurities, as well as something else that Harry couldn’t figure out. After a horrendous practice, Harry decided to talk with Ron.

“I played like a sack of dragon dung,” Ron said in a hollow voice.

“No, you didn’t,” Harry said firmly. “You’re the best Keeper I tried out, Ron. Your only problem is nerves. Is there anything wrong Ron?”

“No, what you talking about?” Ron said quickly.

Harry frowned and said, “Ron, you know you can tell me anything right? We’re supposed to be best mates.”

“’Mates,’” Ron said bitterly. “Mates… staring to hate that word honestly.”

“Why? What happened Ron?” Harry frowned. “Is it something Blaise do?”

Ron looked at him for a moment before saying, “You won’t believe me if I told you Harry. It’s… too weird.”

“Try me Ron,” Harry chuckled.

“Okay… just don’t say anything till I’m done, okay?” Ron asked. Harry nodded. “Well,” Ron began. “Blaise told me he’s not exactly… fully human see? You know those Veela folk? And how Fleur’s half of one? Well, Blaise is like her… only he’s a full Incubus. That means that… well, he can turn into one, and also be a human like us. Anyway, he told me that well… full creatures like him have mates, like boyfriends except we’re like meant to be, and I’m his mate but… the bastard as two mates Harry! Two! Me and Longbottom! The bastard tells me it’s okay, but still I feel like he isn’t satisfied with just me!”

“The greedy lout!” Harry agreed, frowning. How dare Zabini treat his best friend like that. “If he thinks that he needs two of these bloody ‘mates’ then he has another thing coming.”

Ron nodded. “I mean, I get why he told me he needs two, but still it makes me feel like dragon dung again. You know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry said. “I’ve been feeling like that too.”

“What you mean?”

“Seamus and I split up. We just didn’t see eye to eye. That, and he’s shagging Dean,” Harry said.

“What? But Dean’s with Ginny!”

“Using her,” Harry shrugged. “Guess he doesn’t like the fact he’s gay. Not that I care. Hey, listen. If Blaise is bothering you that much, I’ll talk to him.”

“You will?” Ron asked, looking hopeful.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “Besides, I need something to keep my mind off of Seamus.”

“Thanks Harry,” Ron grinned. Harry smiled. Ron’s mood seemed to lifted, and hopefully that will last through their first game.

Harry found Blaise the next day with Draco in a corridor. Not caring about the company, who knows Draco might help him, Harry said, “Oi! Blaise, I want a word with you.”

“Yeah, what is it Harry?” Blaise asked innocently. Harry stopped right in front of Blaise, his arms crossed.

“What’s this I hear about you wanting to snog Neville as well? Huh?” Harry demanded. “I don’t care that you’re an Incubus or whatever, but wanting Longbottom when you already have Ron? The hell is wrong with you?”

“Harry, it’s not that easy…” Blaise tried to explain. “I need two mates, it’s the only way to keep me stable—“

“Stable?” Harry said. “Don’t you be talking to me about stable, okay Zabini? I’ve had a very bad couple of weeks, and you are giving Ron unnecessary stress which is affecting my team.”

“Look Harry, if I don’t have Longbottom, something very bad will happen to Ron—“

“Yeah, a broken heart thanks to your stupid ass,” Harry said.

“Harry,” Draco injected, “I think you should listen to Blaise.”

Harry only glanced at Draco before looking at Blaise. “Why. Tell me why you need Longbottom as well.”

“Because if it’s just Ron and me, he’ll eventually lose everything he is, only existing to satisfy my Incubus,” Blaise said. “I need Neville to help stabilize my needs.”

“And when did you tell Ron this?” Harry glared.

“Right after we had sex,” Blaise stated. The next thing he felt was a soreness as Harry punched his jaw. Draco moved to intervene, but Harry stopped him. “Are you kidding me?” Harry yelled. “You shagged him!? Then told him that Neville needed to join as well? What is wrong with you Blaise?”

“Nothing that Ron wasn’t complaining about that night,” Blaise groaned as he rubbed his jaw. “That hurt, Harry.”

“Good.”

“You kind of deserve it Blaise,” Draco said. “If I had two mates, I would tell him about the other before we had sex.”

“Look who’s talking, you didn’t even tell your mate about you!” Blaise shot back.

“Wait, what? What he’s talking about Draco?” Harry asked.

Draco threw a sharp look at Blaise that Harry missed. “To put it shortly, just as Blaise is an Incubus, I’m a dragon,” Draco said. “A Drogo to be specific.”

“Of course you are,” Harry grumbled. “Damn week,” he said to himself. “Seamus broke up with me, Blaise is causing Ron trouble, and now my friend’s a frickin dragon.”

“What was that? You and Finnigan broke up?” Draco asked. Harry could swear that he sounded happy.

“Yeah,” Harry shrugged. “He basically told me that he was shagging Dean behind my back. And he thought that you were shagging me behind his.”

Draco blushed. Harry raised an eyebrow at that, “Draco?”

“Well… I mean…” Draco said, at a lost of words. “I know this isn’t probably what you want to hear but… I like you Harry.”

“I like you too Draco, we’re mates,” Harry said. “But what does that have to do with Seamus and me?” Blaise and Draco shared a look as Harry said “Mates.”

“Yeah… mates,” Draco said, the double meaning lost to Harry. “But I also like you more than that. I know this is horrible timing but, can you give me a chance?”

Harry looked at Draco for a moment. “Alright,” he said. “Why not? We already hang out a lot recently, and I like spending time with you. Who knows, you might be better than Seamus. At least I know you’ll won’t cheat on me with your best friend, he’s after Longbottom.”

“Exactly,” Draco grinned. “So how about we hang out after the first Quidditch match? The loser has to do what the winner does?”

“I’m game Malfoy, but I won’t lose,” Harry smirked, feeling immensely better already.

Draco chuckled and said, “Neither do I Potter. See you on the field.”

 


	11. Slughorn's Party

Chapter 11

Slughorn’s Party

To put it bluntly, Ron’s confidence was in the shitter. He was actively avoiding both Neville and Blaise, and Harry started to worry how this both affected him and the team. Harry lay awake for a long time in the darkness on the night before their first match. He didn’t want to lose it; not only was it his first as Captain, but he was determined to beat Draco. Yet if Ron played as he had done in the last few practices, their chances of winning were very slim. …

If only there was something he could do to make Ron pull himself together …make him play at the top of his form …something that would ensure that Ron had a really good day …

And the answer came to Harry in once, sudden, glorious stroke of inspiration.

Breakfast was the usual excitable affair next morning; the Slytherins hissed and booed loudly as every member of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall. Harry glanced at the ceiling and saw a clear, pale blue sky: a good omen.

Harry stole a quick glance at the Slytherin table, ignoring the glares as he looked for his new boyfriend. Draco was sitting in his seat, dressed in his Quidditch robes, eating. As he sat down next to Ron, Harry asked “Tea? Coffee? Pumpkin juice?”

“Anything,” Ron said glumly, taking a moody bite of toast. A few minutes later Hermione, who had become so tired of Ron’s recent unpleasant behavior that she had not come down to breakfast with them, paused on her way up the table.

“How are you both feeling?” she asked tentatively, her eyes on the back of Ron’s head.

“Fine,” Harry said, who was concentrating on handing Ron a glass of pumpkin juice. “There you go, Ron. Drink up.”

Ron had just raised the glass to his lips when Hermione spoke sharply. “Don’t drink that, Ron!”

Both Harry and Ron looked up at her.

“Why not?” Ron asked.

Hermione was now staring at Harry as though she couldn’t believe her eyes. “You just put something in that drink.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I saw you. You just tipped something into Ron’s drink. You’ve got the bottle in your hand right now!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry said, stowing the bottle hastily into his pocket.

“Ron, I warn you, don’t drink it!” Hermione said again, alarmed, but Ron picked up the glass, drained it in one gulp, and said, “Stop bossing me around, Hermione.”

She looked scandalized. Bending low so that only Harry could hear her, she hissed, “You should be expelled for that, I’d never have believed it of you, Harry!”

“Hark who’s talking,” he whispered back. “Confunded anyone lately?”

She stormed up the table away from them. Harry watched her go without regret. Hermione had never really understood what a serious business Quidditch was. He then looked around at Ron, who was smacking his lips.

“Nearly time,” Harry said blithely.

The frosty grass crunched underfoot as they strode down to the stadium.

“Pretty lucky the weather’s this good, eh?” Harry asked Ron.

“Yeah,” Ron said, looking pale and sick-looking.

“Conditions look ideal,” Ginny said as they entered the changing room. “And get this, that Slytherin Chaser Vaisey—he took a Bludger in the head yesterday during their practice, and he’s too sore to play!”

“That’s lucky,” Ron said looking slightly more animated. “He’s their best goal scorer. I didn’t fancy—hey!”

“What?”

“I… you…” Ron had dropped his voice, he looked both scared and excited. “My drink … my pumpkin juice … you didn’t…”

Harry raised his eyebrows, but said nothing except “We’ll be starting in about five minutes, get your boots on.”

Harry was surprised that Draco wasn’t the Slytherin Captain. It would have been perfect, he mused as he was forced to shake hands with Urquhart, a seventh year. Draco stood behind the brute, and couldn’t help but smirk at Harry It was as if he thought he had already won the game. He couldn’t wait to wipe that look off the dragon as Madam Hooch blew her whistle.

“Well, there they go, and I think we’re all surprised to see the team that Potter’s put together this year. Many thought, given Ronald Weasley’s patchy performance as Keeper last year, that he might be off the team, but of course, a close personal friendship with the Captain does help…”

These words were greeted with jeers and applause from the Slytherin end of the pitch. Harry craned around on his broom looking toward the commentator’s podium. A tall, skinny blond boy with an upturned nose was standing there, talking into the magical megaphone that had once been Lee Jordan’s; Harry recognized Zacharias Smith, a Hufflepuff player whom he heartily disliked.

“Oh, and here comes Slytherin’s first attempt on goal. It’s Urquhart streaking down the pitch and—

“—Weasley saves it, well, he’s bound to get lucky sometimes, I suppose. …”

“That’s right Smith, he is,” Harry muttered, grinning to himself.

“What was that?” Draco’s voice said behind him. Harry turned, surprised to see Draco hovering behind him.

“Nothing Malfoy,” Harry said looking around. “Just thinking of what I’m planning to make you do after I win. Know any tricks as a dragon? Can you roll over?”

“Watch it Potter,” Draco growled playfully. “Before your broom starts to burn.”

Harry laughed at that, and sped away, starting the familiar game of cat and mouse between them. With half an hour of the game gone, Gryffindor were leading sixty points to zero, Ron having made some truly spectacular saves, some by the very tips of his gloves, and Ginny having scored four of Gryffindor’s six goals. This effectively stopped Zacharias wondering loudly whether the two Weasleys were only there because Harry liked them, and he started on Peakes and Coote instead.

“Of course, Coote isn’t really the usual build for a Beater,” Zacharias said loftily, “they’ve generally got a bit more muscle—“

“Hit a Bludger at him!” Harry called to Coote as he zoomed past, Draco following, his laughs mirthful, but Coote, grinning broadly, chose to aim the next Bludger at Draco instead. Harry couldn’t help but be pleased to hear the dull thunk that meant the Buldger had found its mark. He spun around to laugh as Draco tried to gain control of his broom again.

“Piss off Harry!” Draco yelled as he flew towards Harry again, who was starting to control his laughing again. It felt weird playing against Draco Malfoy in Quidditch with no hatred between them, but Harry sort of liked it. There was no way he would allow Draco to win, but still he liked the feeling.

It seemed as though Gryffindor could do no wrong. Again and again they scored, and again and again, at the other end of the pitch, Ron saved goals with apparent ease. He was actually smiling now, and when the crowd greeted a particularly good save with a rousing chorus of the old favorite “Weasley Is Our King,” he pretended to conduct them from on high.

“He seems to be happy, doesn’t he?” Draco mused as they were neck-to-neck, mostly so Harry could keep up with their conversation.

“Yeah… so?”

“Think he’ll accept Blaise needing Ne—“

“Don’t talk about that now,” Harry said, “I was just starting to like this.”

“You never really allowed Blaise to properly explain it,” Draco said.

“Is this really the time to talk about mates and creatures, lizard-tongue?” Harry barked out.

Draco gave a laugh and said, “Lizard-tongue? Is that the best you got Potter?”

“Shut up.”

They’ve flown high, both boys ignoring the commentary as they pretended to chase after the snitch. “But serious Harry, if Blaise doesn’t have both Ron and Neville, all three of them could possibly die!”

“How?”

“Well,” Draco said as they turned to avoid a lone cloud. “If it was just Blaise and Ron, Ron will become a mindless sex slave to put it bluntly. And Blaise, becoming more and more frustrated, would become violent.”

Harry grimaced and shook his head. “I don’t have time for this right now, wait for later!” And with that, he sped away from Draco, seeing a hint of gold far below. Harry accelerated in his dive; the wind was whistling in his ears so that it drowned all sound of Smith’s commentary or the crowd. Draco seemed to notice it as well, and chased after him, but Harry was too far ahead. His hand outstretched, Harry made a great swipe for the tiny, fluttering ball and caught it.

“YES!” Harry yelled. Wheeling around, he hurtled back toward the ground, the Snitch held high in his hand. As the crowd realized what had happened, a great shout went up that almost drowned the sound of the whistle that ended the game.

Draco looked disappointed, but Harry knew that it was more of losing their bet than the match. Harry cheered with the rest of the team, and clapped a cheering Ron on the back instead as, all enmity forgotten, the Gryffindor team left the pitch arm in arm, punching the air and waving to their supporters.

The atmosphere in the changing room was jubilant. The rest of the team left to celebrate in the common room, leaving Harry and Ron. They were just about to leave when Hermione entered. She was twisting her Gryffindor scarf in her hands and looked upset but determined.

“I want a word with you, Harry.” She took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t have done it. You heard Slughorn, it’s illegal.”

“What are you going to do, turn us in?” Ron demanded.

“What are you two talking about?” Harry asked, turning away to hang up his robes so that neither of them would see him grinning.

“You know perfectly well what we’re talking about!” Hermione said shrilly. “You spiked Ron’s juice with lucky potion at breakfast! Felix Felicis!”

“No, I didn’t,” Harry said, turning back to face them both.

“Yes you did, Harry, and that’s why everything went right!”

“I didn’t put it in!” Harry said, grinning broadly. He slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket and drew out the tiny bottle that Hermione had seen in his hand that morning. It was full of golden potion and the cork was still tightly sealed with wax. “I wanted Ron to think I’d done it, so I faked it when I knew you were looking.” He looked at Ron. “You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself.”

He pocketed the potion again.

“There really wasn’t anything in my pumpkin juice?” Ron said astounded. “But the weather’s good …and Vaisey couldn’t play … I honestly haven’t been given lucky potion?”

Harry shook his head Ron gaped at him for a moment. He turned to Hermione and opened his mouth, but the changing room doors opened again and Blaise and Draco walked in. “Ron! That was beautiful what you did out there!” Blaise cheered. He hugged Ron and kissed his cheek, slipping his arm around Ron’s waist.

“Thanks,” Ron blushed, suddenly at a loss of words. Harry was happy to see that peace seemed to be restored between the couple as he looked at Hermione. He mouthed the words, ‘They had a row’ which she nodded to.

“I’m serious Ron, that was amazing what you did out there! I knew my boyfriend was a great Keeper,” Blaise smiled. “That has to be hereditary right?”

“Um no,” Ron said shaking his head. “I’m the first one in my family.”

“Really?” Blaise asked, guiding Ron slowly out of the changing room, giving the redhead his undivided attention. When the two left the changing room, Hermione turned to Harry. “What was going on between them?” she demanded.

Harry and Draco looked at each other. “It’s hard to explain,” Harry began.

“Harry. Whatever it is almost ruined Ron’s and mine friendship,” Hermione said. “Tell me now.”

Harry looked between his friend and Draco. Not knowing the full situation, at least not as much as Draco apparently does, he turned towards Draco and crossed his arms. “I don’t know the full thing either, Hermione,” he said. “But he does.”

Draco threw a glare at Harry before addressing both of them. “Well Granger, to put it shortly, Blaise is a creature called an Incubus. You can look them up later, but really what you need to know is that in order to keep him stable, and sane Blaise needs two ‘mates’ or boyfriends. They as well need him for the same reason. Ron found out, and after having sex with Blaise learned who the second mate is.”

“Well… who is he?” Hermione insisted.

“Longbottom,” Draco shrugged.

Hermione kept quiet. Harry could see the wheels in her head whirling as she worked out Draco’s short explanation. Harry and Draco stayed silent, looking at each other as Hermione thought. “So, what you are telling me is that Blaise is an Incubus, and in order to keep himself, Ron, and Neville safe he needs to be in a um… relationship with them both,” Hermione said, her cheeks extremely pink.

“Yes,” Draco nodded.

Hermione just shook her head and said, “Then Blaise is the reason for Ron’s and mine argument.”

“Yes again,” Draco said.

“Great…” Hermione muttered. “Anything else you want to tell me?” she asked Harry.

“Well… Seamus and I kind of broke up,” Harry admitted. “He was umm snogging Dean behind Ginny’s back.”

“What!?” Hermione said loudly. “Are you okay Harry? How is Ginny going to feel when she find out? You’re not actually going to tell her are you?”

“No,” Harry said. “I don’t care about Seamus or Dean right now. If they want to do that, I’m fine with it.”

“But still… that’s just terrible,” Hermione muttered to herself. Both Harry and Draco just nodded and decided to leave it at that.

The three started back towards Hogwarts when Draco looked at Harry. “So, you won the bet,” he said.

Both Harry and Hermione looked at him as Harry nodded. “Yeah I did,” he smirked cockily.

“So, what do you want to do? Loser does anything the winner wants right?” Draco said.

Harry thought about it for a moment before shrugging, “I can’t think of one yet. I’ll let you know.”

Draco nodded, and they made their separate ways. In the Gryffindor Common Room, they found a reluctant Ron talking with Neville. Harry and Hermione glanced at each other but kept their space as it seems as if Ron and Neville were only having a civil talk, which was far from mates and Incubi. Hermione, however, found it a bit amusing when Lavender Brown tried to talk, if not snog, Ron who just completely ignored her.

“Honestly some girls these days,” Hermione said to Harry. “They think gay is a symptom or something they can do away with.”

Harry snorted, smiling as it seems that his two best friends were far from splitting.

 

“What is he doing?” Draco asked, pointing towards Nott who was hunched over in a corner desk. He was in the Slytherin common room with Blaise, who just finished telling Draco about his and Ron’s talk after the Quidditch match. “He’s paler than usual.”

Blaise looked at Nott and frowned. Draco was right, the boy did seem paler than usual, heavy bags under his eyes as he seemed to be working on some homework. “You’re right. Most likely doing homework, I guess. Anyway, how is it with you and Harry?” he smirked.

“Doing good, I can’t complain,” Draco said. “I lost the bet, thought Harry didn’t tell me what he wants me to do.”

Blaise just looked at him for a moment before saying, “Maybe he’ll want you to give him a ride.”

Draco barked out a laugh, “As if I’ll allow that! He has a broom, he can fly that if he wants to.”

“You’ll never know,” Blaise shrugged before they were interrupted with the loudness and annoyance of the rest of Slytherin House, all of them sadden and annoyed that they’ve lost.

 

Snow was swirling against the icy windows once more; Christmas was approaching fast. Hagrid had already single-handedly delivered the usual twelve Christmas trees for the Great Hall; garlands of holly and tinsel had been twisted around the banisters of the stairs; everlasting candles glowed from inside the helmets of suits of armor and great bunches of mistletoe had been hung at intervals along the corridors. Large groups of girls tended to converge underneath the mistletoe bunches every time Harry went past, which caused blockages in the corridors; fortunately, however, Harry’s frequent nighttime wanderings had given him an unusually good knowledge of the castle’s secret passageways, so that he was able, without too much difficulty, to navigate mistletoe-free routes between classes.

Harry and Hermione were together in the library, Harry hunched over the Prince’s copy of Advanced Potion-Making, when she said, “You need to be careful.”

“For the last time,” Harry said, speaking in a slightly hoarse whisper after forty-five minutes of silence, “I am not giving back this book, I’ve learned more from the Half-Blood Prince than Snape or Slughorn have taught me in—“

“I’m not talking about your stupid so-called Prince,” Hermione said, giving his book a nasty look as though it had been rude to her. “I’m talking about earlier. I went into the girl’s bathroom just before I came here and there were about a dozen girls in there, including that Romilda Vane, trying to decide how to slip you a love potion. They’re all hoping they’re going to get you to take them to Slughorn’s party, and they all seem to have bought Fred and George’s love potions, which I’m afraid to say probably work—“

“But I’m gay,” Harry said. “And why didn’t you confiscate them then?” he demanded.

“As if they care, and they didn’t have the potions with them in the bathroom,” Hermione said scornfully. “They were just discussing tactics. I’d just invite someone to go with you, that’ll stop all the others thinking they’ve still got a chance… even though they realistically don’t. It’s tomorrow night, they’re getting desperate.”

“There isn’t anyone I want to invite,” Harry mumbled. “I mean, Seamus dumped me for a closet case.”

“What ‘bout Malfoy?” Hermione asked sharply, still not comfortably talking about the Slytherin. “Aren’t you two?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “I mean… it’s weird, ya know? Like we hang around, ya know, but we don’t exactly kiss and stuff like that.”

“Well… just be careful what you drink, because Romilda Vane looked like she meant business,” Hermione said grimly.

She hitched up the long roll of parchment on which she was writing her Arithmancy essay and continued to scratch away with her quill. Harry watched her with his mind a long way away.

“Hang on a moment, I’m gay those love potions can’t affect me right?”

“I don’t know,” Hermione said, still concentrating on her essay. “It’s Fred and George, anything’s possible with those louts.”

Harry nodded. When Hermione finished her essay, Madam Prince the librarian caught them both bad mouthing Filch as Harry questioned how Fred and George’s products sneaked past Filch. She practically kicked them both out of the library, which caused them both a laugh. Harry enjoyed the fact that they could speak normally again, they made their way along the deserted, lamp-lit corridors back to the common room, arguing about whether or not Filch and Madam Prince were secretly in love with each other.

As soon as they walked into the common room, Romilda Vane stepped in front of them. “Hi Harry! Fancy a gillywater?”

Hermione gave him a “what-did-I-tell-you” look over her shoulder.

“No thanks,” Harry said quickly. “I don’t like it much.”

“Well, take these anyway,” Romilda Vane said, thrusting a box into his hands. “Chocolate Cauldrons, they’ve got firewhiskey in them. My gran sent them to me, but I don’t like them.”

“Oh—right—thanks a lot,” Harry said who could not think what else to say. “Er—I’m just going over here with …”

He hurried off behind Hermione, his voice tailing away feebly.

“Told you,” Hermione said succinctly. “Just ask Malfoy. The sooner you do that, the sooner they’ll leave you alone…It doesn’t have to be a stupid date, just go as friends.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll see what Draco wants,” Harry said, closing the conversation. They saw Ron and Hermione walked up to him. Ron didn’t say anything as she asked, “You and Blaise doing alright? Harry and Malfoy told me about your uh… situation.”

“Fine,” Ron said, his eyes shifting towards Neville, hints of jealousy still in his eyes. “Just don’t want to talk about that right now. Or even see Longbottom.” Hermione nodded and, much to Harry’s relief, started to have a normal conversation with Ron.

Harry finally found a time to talk to Draco after Transfiguration. They had a difficult lesson. They had just embarked upon the immensely difficult topic of human Transfiguration; working in front of mirrors, they were supposed to be changing the color of their own eyebrows. At the end, Harry ran up to Draco, who was walking with a small group of Slytherins, and yelled, “Draco! Come here!”

The other Slytherins sneered at Harry, only to stop after a glare from Draco. “Go on,” he commanded, the rest of the Slytherins scurrying away. “It’s good to be the king,” Draco chuckled. “What is it Harry?”

“Slughorn’s Christmas party is tonight,” Harry began. “I can’t get out of it, so you want to come with me? Make it a bit more bearable?”

“Of course,” Draco chuckled. “Though you don’t need Slughorn to ask me on a date.”

“No. This isn’t a date,” Harry said. “I’m still holding onto that one favor from our bet Draco. It can either be this, or something worse.”

Draco chuckled and step towards Harry. He placed his fingers on Harry’s chin and lifted them, so he that Harry was staring up into his eyes. “And what is it you’re thinking of you bad Gryffindor?” Draco purred. “Remember who you’re flirting with Harry.”

“Shut up lizard,” Harry blushed, smacking Draco’s hands away. “So you want to come with me or not?”

“Yeah, of course I do,” Draco smirked.

“Good, we’ll meet at the entrance hall at eight?” Harry asked.

“Of course love,” Draco snickered. Harry’s face gone red with annoyance and embarrassment (mostly embarrassment). “Oh, one more thing Harry, I’m the blonde in this couple,” Draco said, pointing to Harry’s eyebrow, which was still bright yellow.

Harry glared at Draco as the Slytherin took out his wand and fixed it. Draco just chuckled to himself and promised to see Harry at eight.

When he arrived in the entrance hall at eight o’clock that night, he found an unusually large number of girls lurking there, all of whom seemed to be staring at him resentfully. He ignored them the best he could as he waited for Draco. He decided to sit on a stone bench as he waited, stretched out on it. The looming girls said nothing as Harry waited, each other them glaring at each other, daring one another to sit down next to Harry.

“You’re late,” Harry said when Draco finally appeared, wearing dark silver dress robes that had a light blue trimming. Draco chuckled and said, “No I’m not.”

“Yes you are,” Harry said. “Ten minutes late.”

“’A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to,’” Draco quoted as he walked towards Harry.

Harry looked confused, but shook his head.

“Muggle book,” Draco said.

“You read muggle books?” Harry snickered. “I thought the great Draco Malfoy would be above anything ‘muggle.’”

“Oh I am,” Draco said, offering a hand to Harry. “I am above any common muggle in looks, skill, intelligence, and sexual attractiveness. But there are some fictions that they’ve created that I am a fan of.”

“Really?” Harry smiled. “Nice to see the Prat of Slytherin isn’t as much as a prat as I thought of.”

Draco laughed at this as he led Harry to the marble staircase away from all the staring and muttering. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me Harry,” Draco mused. “But you’ll see all of that in time. So, where is this party?”

“Slughorn’s office,” Harry said. “Apparently there’s a vampire coming.”

“Bullocks,” Draco said, “the old man is not daft enough to bring one of those in here… is he?”

“Well there seems to be no problem with an incubus and a lizard running around,” Harry said.

“Dragon. I’m a dragon Potter, get it right,” Draco said.

“What? Like a common welsh green?” Harry asked, genuinely curious.

“No,” Draco shook his head. “A Drogo. I happen to be the world’s most dangerous and powerful Dragon, Harry.”

“And a massive ego-centric git,” Harry muttered.

“A git who you are dating,” Draco pointed out. Harry laughed, followed by Draco’s, but soon their laughter was drowned out by the sounds of laughter, music, and loud conversations coming from Slughorn’s office.

Whether it had been built that way, or because he had used magical trickery to make it so, Slughorn’s office was much larger than the usual teacher’s study. The ceiling and walls had been draped with emerald, crimson, and gold hangings, so that it looked as though they were all in a vast tent. The room was crowded and stuffy and bathed in the red light cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the center of the ceiling in which real fairies were fluttering, each a brilliant speck of light. Loud singing accompanied by what sounded like mandolins issued from a distant corner; a haze of pipe smoke hung over several elderly warlocks deep in conversation, and a number of house-elves were negotiating their way squeakily through the forest of knees, obscured by the heavy silver platters of food they were bearing, so that they looked like roving tables.

“Harry, m’boy!” Slughorn boomed, almost as soon as Harry and Draco had squeezed in through the door. “Come in, come in, so many people I’d like you to meet!”

Slughorn was wearing a tasseled velvet hat to match his smoking jacket. Gripping Harry’s arm so tightly he might have been hoping to Disapparate with him, Slughorn led him purposefully into the party; Harry seized Draco’s hand and dragged him along with him.

“Harry, I’d like you to meet Eldred Worple, an old student of mine, author of _Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires_ —and, of course, his friend Sanguini.”

Harry leaned towards Draco as Worple, a small, stout, bespectacled man, grabbed Harry’s hand and shook it enthusiastically. “Do vampires—“

“No they don’t, they’re just annoying blood suckers,” Draco said, giving the vampire Sanguini, who was tall and emaciated with dark shadows under his eyes, a sharp look. A gaggle of girls was standing close to him, looking curious and excited.

Draco was telling the truth. While, yes, a majority of creature inheritance does in fact have mates, there is a small population that do not have mates of any kind for several of reasons, most of which involving of how they were made. A short list of the population would include vampires, werewolves, fairies (the human-sized kind found in forested areas), Imps (common little trouble-makers who pop out of the ground), wood nymphs (totally different from fairies unless you want a broken arm), and merpeople. These creatures all have a lack of mates due to either being made into the creature, such as vampires, werewolves, and some merpeople, or being too childish or immature to know what a mate is (see imps). Any witch, wizard, or muggle believing themselves to be “mates” to one of these creatures are generally concerned as boring and dangerous, especially as studies show a large population of them seem to gravitate towards vampires, and it often leads to death, very unhappy marriages, or a sour memory that is impossible to forget or move past. Scholars still debate on which outcome is the worst.

Worple seemed to Harry to be a biographer, as he tried to propose to write Harry’s biography. “If you were prepared to grant me a few interviews, say in four-or five-hour sessions, why, we could have the book finished within months. And all with very little effort on your part, I assure you—ask Sanguini here if it isn’t quite— _Sanguini, stay here!_ ” Worple added, suddenly stern, for the vampire had been edging toward the nearby group of girls, a rather hungry look in his eye. “Here, have a pastry,” Worple said, seizing one from a passing elf and stuffing it into Sanguini’s hand before turning his attention back to Harry.

“See, blood sucker,” Draco said a bit loudly.

“I’m not interested,” Harry said firmly before Worple said another word. “I see a friend of ours… sorry.”

He pulled Draco after him into the crowd; he had indeed just seen a long mane of brown hair disappear between what looked like two members of the Weird Sisters.

“Hermione! Hermione!”

“Harry! There you are, thank goodness! Hi, Malfoy.”

“What happened to you?” Harry asked, for Hermione looked distinctly disheveled, rather as though she had just fought her way out of a thicket of Devil’s Snare.

“Oh, I’ve just escaped—I mean, I just left McLaggen. He thought since I went here alone that he was free to talk to me,” Hermione said.

“Why would—“

“Doesn’t matter,” Hermione said. “Let’s go this way, we’ll be able to see him coming, he’s so tall. …”

The three of them made their way over to the other side of the room, scooping up goblets of mead on the way, realizing too late that Professor Trelawney was standing there alone.

She seemed to be minding her own business, smelling like cooking sherry. Harry turned to Draco and asked, “So what are you going to do during Christmas break?”

“As much as I hate to say it, I’ll most likely have to go home to Malfoy Manor for Christmas,” Draco said. “I haven’t heard a single word from my parents, and they’ll probably think it’s suspicious of me to not return.”

“Why? What’s the matter?” Harry asked.

“Well, last time I saw them, we were surrounded by Death Eaters,” Draco said, glancing to make sure no one was hearing them. “And knowing my father, they would most likely try to force me to join their side. As if that would be possible.”

Harry nodded and frowned, remembering the news Dumbledore shared with him. “You know you can always come to the Burrow with me,” he said. “I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Weasley won’t mind.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Hermione frowned. “No offense Malfoy, but your family and the Weasleys don’t exactly have the best relationship.”

Draco shrugged. Harry however said, “No, I’m sure they’ll understand. Then I could beat Draco in Quidditch every day during the break!”

“What is it with you boys and Quidditch?” Hermione said a bit angrily. “Is that all boys care about? Cormac hasn’t asked me one single question about myself, no, I’ve just been treated to ‘A Hundred Great Saves Made by Cormac McLaggen’ nonstop ever since—oh no, here he comes!”

She moved so fast it was as though she had Disapparated; one moment she was there, the next, she had squeezed between two guffawing witches and vanished.

“Seen Hermione?” McLaggen asked, forcing his way through the throng a minute later.

“No, sorry,” Harry said, and he turned quickly towards Draco, as if they were in a private conversation.

“So how about it?” Harry asked.

“I’ll think about it,” Draco said, crossing his arms. “Maybe… who knows, it depends on how many of his _friends_ father decides to invite.”

Harry nodded and tried not to frown, he knew exactly who would be at the Manor and wanted to warn Draco immediately, but there were too many people around them, too many ears. He couldn’t give Draco a proper warning, and Harry kicked himself for not warning Draco sooner.

“Harry Potter!” Professor Trelawney said in deep, vibrant tones, noticing him for the first time.

“Oh, hello,” Harry said unenthusiastically.

“My dear boy!” she said in a very carrying whisper. “The rumors! The stories! ‘The Chosen One’! Of course, I have known for a very long time. …The omens were never good, Harry. …But why have you not returned to Divination? For you, of all people, the subject is of the utmost importance!”

“Ah, Sybill, we all think our subject’s most important!” said a loud voice, and Slughorn appeared at Professor Trelawney’s other side, his face very red, his velvet hat a little askew, a glass of mead in one hand and an enormous mince pie in the other. “But I don’t think I’ve ever known such a natural at Potions!” Slughorn said, regarding Harry with a fond, if bloodshot, eye. “Instinctive, you know—like his mother! I’ve only ever taught a few with this kind of ability, I can tell you that, Sybill—why even Severus—“

And to Harry’s horror, Slughorn threw out an arm and seemed to scoop Snape out of thin air toward them.

“Stop skulking and come and join us, Severus!” Slughorn hiccupped happily. “Look! Two of your best students right here! Some credit must go to you, of course, you taught Harry for five years!”

“Funny, I never had the impression that I managed to teach Potter anything at all.”

“Well, then it’s natural ability!” Slughorn shouted. “You should have seen what he gave me, first lesson, Draught of Living Death—never had a student produce finer on a first attempt, I don’t think even you, Severus—“

“Really?” Snape said quietly, his eyes still boring into Harry, who felt a certain disquiet. The last thing he wanted was for Snape to start investigating the source of his newfound brilliance at Potions.

“I’ve been helping him,” Draco interrupted, making the professors’ attention turn to him.

“Oh really?” Slughorn asked, “even before Harry’s first lesson?”

“No,” Draco said. “I’ve started helping him a couple of weeks into the year. … Simple stuff, you know.”

“Well then, that must have only helped Harry’s natural ability!” Slughorn smiled. “You’re a good man … Duncan?”

“Draco.”

“Yes well, remind me again what subjects you’re taking Harry?” Slughorn asked, completely ignoring Draco.

“Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology…”

“All the subjects required, in short, for an Auror,” Snape said, with the faintest sneer.

“Yeah, well, that’s what I’d like to do,” Harry said defiantly.

“Really?” Draco asked. “Never knew that.”

“I didn’t tell you that?” Harry asked, temporarily forgetting the professor’s presence. It was easy to forget everyone around him when Draco was around.

“No,” Draco said. “Anything else you’re hiding from me Harry?”

Harry giggled and shook his head, “No, just that I want to be an Auror.”

“And a great one you’ll make too!” Slughorn boomed.

Again Harry ignored the professors and asked, “And what are you studying for Knife-ears?”

“Still calling me that Potter?” Draco asked.

“Of course. Now tell me, I told you my aspiration, now you have to tell me yours. That’s how it works, doesn’t it?” Harry smirked behind his glass of mead.

Draco smirked and shook his head. “You mean you couldn’t guess Potter?” Draco asked. “Not only am I going to inherit the Malfoy fortune, including our thousand year old apothecary and superior wine production, but unlike my lazy father and grandfather I will rule Britain.”

“So Minister of Magic,” Harry said. “Seems right for huge ego like you Knife-Ears,” Harry chuckled.

Draco snickered and shook his head, “Sure, let’s go with that. Remember Harry, Dragons are very _possessive_ and _territorial_ creatures…” he hissed at Harry.

“And what? England is your territory?”

“Exactly,” Draco smirked. Harry just shook his head, surprised to see that the professors seemed to leave them to their own.

 

While that was happening, it should be nice to note that the Incubus known as Blaise Zabini decided to start making his claim on Neville Longbottom. He and Ron agreed that Ron shouldn’t come to the party, after many hours of Blaise begging, and that they can try to look at their threesome relationship after Christmas break. Blaise also promised Ron that he would let Neville know immediately what is going on, for he didn’t want Longbottom to be treated as unfairly as he was. So tonight seemed like a perfect night as both he and Neville arrived there without guests.

He found his cute mate nervously in a corner, glancing around as he talked with Ginny and Dean Thomas. He couldn’t help but throw a glare at Thomas for his actions indirectly caused his mate’s friend grief. “Hello Neville,” he smiled as he stopped next to them.

Thomas and Ginny glared at Blaise. “What do you want Zabini?” Ginny asked.

“Relax, relax,” Blaise smiled, his eyes locking with Dean Thomas’s as he decided to play with Thomas’s hormones. He faked a stretch as he gently released his ability, hiding a smirk when he saw both his precious mate and Thomas blush. Thomas’s eyes seemed to move from Ginny and directly towards Blaise, his gaze following the lean, defined muscles that Blaise naturally showed off under his clothing, and a budge hidden artfully in his robes. Blaise smirked as a sweat started to appear on Dean’s face, a flush showing through his dark skin as he continued to stare lustfully at Blaise. Ginny was unaware to all of this, just glaring at the Slytherin as he looked at Neville.

His poor mate was in a state of embarrassment, a tent starting to appear in his pants. “Come on Neville, I want to talk with you,” Blaise purred to the round-faced boy.

“Y-you do?” Neville stuttered, looking at Ginny for a moment.

“Yes,” Blaise smiled, his eyes glancing down discreetly to see that Thomas had a similar, if larger, problem than Neville had. Thomas noticed Blaise’s looking and bit his lip. Blaise just winked at him, which caused the Gryffindor to run out of the party.

With him gone, Blaise pulled back on his influence to just enough to get Neville over his shyness. “What was that about?” Neville asked, relieved to have the strange perverted sensation leaving him.

“No idea…” Ginny muttered. “I’m going to find Harry and Hermione to say hi before going after him.”

Blaise smiled as he found himself alone with Neville. “Weird, anyway I’m glad we’re alone Neville,” Blaise said.

“W-Why is that?” Neville asked.

“Because you’re beautiful,” Blaise said.

“No I’m not,” Neville said, shaking his head. “I’m chubby, I’m nowhere as good looking as Harry, Ron, Seamus, or Dean. I’m—“

“A very cute, very interesting Gryffindor that I want to know more about,” Blaise said, his fingers gliding across Neville’s smooth cheeks. He smiled as Neville blushed. “A beautiful baby.”

“Wait a minute,” Neville said, taking a step back. What about Ron!? You’re with Ron! This is wrong, we can’t—“

“Shh, hush baby, don’t you feel it?” Blaise whispered, his hand never leaving Neville’s cheek. “The connection between us? The connection between you and Ron? This is how it’s supposed to be. You’re our beautiful baby lion Neville.”

“Wha—“

“Don’t talk Neville, just feel,” Blaise whispered as he took a step closer. “You are so beautiful Neville. You’re going to make Ron and I so proud. … Our beautiful Baby.”

Neville just blushed, his legs paralyzed as Blaise closed the distance between them. But instead of his lips like Neville was thinking, Blaise left a loving, soothing kiss on Neville’s cheek. He smiled and wiped Neville’s lips with his thumb. “I want Ron to be your first kiss. I want Ron to be your first everything. We’re going to fall in love together Neville, but when the time comes, I want Ron to make love with our Baby first. You’re ours, and we will always love you Neville. Remember that.”

And with that, Blaise left Neville, smiling at himself as he left his precious mate in a confused, sexuality frustrated state. He knew that Ron and Neville would be perfect for each other. Ron will grow more confidently into his role, and Neville will be their loving submissive. All they need was time.


	12. In Which Christmas Happens

Chapter 12

In Which Christmas Happens

Harry and Ron were standing alone at the Burrow’s kitchen sink, peeling a mountain of sprouts for Mrs. Weasley. Snow was drifting past the window in front of them.

“Aaah, George, look at this. They’re using knives and everything. Bless them,” Fred said as he and George walked in.

“I’ll be seventeen in two and a bit months’ time,” Ron said grumpily, “and then I’ll be able to do it by magic!”

“But meanwhile,” George said, sitting down at the kitchen table and putting his feet up on it, “we can enjoy watching you demonstrate the correct use of a—whoops-a-daisy!”

“You made me do that!” Ron said angrily, sucking his cut thumb. “You wait, when I’m seventeen—“

“I’m sure you’ll dazzle us all with hitherto unsuspected magical skills,” Fred yawned.

“But in the meantime, get to cooking muggles,” George laughed.”Careful now!”

Mrs. Weasley entered the room just in time to see Ron throw the spout knife at George, who had turned it into a paper airplane with one lazy flick of his wand.

“Ron!” she said furiously. “Don’t you ever let me see you throwing knives again!”

“I won’t,” Ron said, “let you see,” he added under his breath, as he turned his back to the sprout mountain.

“Fred, George, I’m sorry dears, but Remus is arriving tonight, so Bill will have to squeeze in with you two.”

“No problem,” George said.

“Then, as Charlie isn’t coming home, that just leaves Harry and Ron in the attic, and if Fleur shares with Ginny—“

“—that’ll make Ginny’s Christmas—“ Fred muttered.

“—everyone should be comfortable. Well, they’ll have a bed anyway,” Mrs. Weasley said, sounding slightly harassed.

“Umm Mrs. Weasley…” Harry said a bit uncertain. “I invited Draco to come here for Christmas… he and his folks aren’t seeing eye-to-eye right now.”

“Well if he does come, then we’ll have to find a place to squeeze him in,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“Percy definitely not showing his ugly face, then?” Fred asked.

Mrs. Weasley turned away before she answered. “No, he’s busy, I except, at the Ministry.”

“Or he’s the world’s biggest prat,” Fred said as Mrs. Weasley left the kitchen. “One of the two. Well, let’s get going, then, George.”

“What are you two up to?” Ron asked. “Can’t you help us with these sprouts? You could just use your wand and then we’ll be free too!”

“No, I don’t think we can do that,” Fred said seriously. “It’s very character-building stuff, learning to peel sprouts without magic, makes you appreciate how difficult it is for Muggles and Squibs—“

“—and if you want people to help you Ron,” George added, throwing the paper airplane at him, “I wouldn’t chuck knives at them. Just a hint. Also, apparently Malfoy’s coming over, we don’t want to just let the prat step into our home, do we?”

“He’s my boyfriend and guest,” Harry argued.

“You’re right,” George nodded. “There is that… well, let’s go Fred.”

“Right-o George,” Fred nodded, the two leaving the kitchen.

“Gits,” Ron said darkly. “Would’ve only taken them ten seconds to do this.”

“What is Blaise doing during the break?” Harry asked Ron, trying to change the subject.

“He’s with his mum and her family,” Ron said, a tint of red appearing on his cheeks. “Apparently, they’re umm preparing for something after this school year… Incubus’s work fast, ya know? But he promised me he’ll be here Christmas day.”

“Ohh,” Harry nodded.

“Is Malfoy really coming over here?”

“I hope so,” Harry said. “Why? You don’t want him here?” Harry frowned.

“Not that,” Ron shrugged. “It’s just weird, you know, thinking that Malfoy’s going to be here.”

“I just hope he’s alright,” Harry frowned. “Kind of miss him.”

“Jesus, you two act worse than fourth years just starting dating,” Ron said.

“We just started, it’s nothing serious,” Harry said.

“Whatever mate,” Ron muttered, turning his attention back to the sprouts.

 

Draco Malfoy stepped up to his own manor, trunks in hand. Neither his mother nor his father was there to meet him on the train station at King’s Cross. A bit heartbroken, but mostly annoyed, Draco was forced to summon a house-elf to bring him home. The elf could only get him to the manor’s borders, because of the defenses surrounding the house, so he had to walk the rest of the way. As he opened the main doors of the manor, his patience was short, and his frustration flying high. His eyes shifted from side to side, looking for his mother or father. But instead, he found nothing but a tense atmosphere.

Draco took a few steps into the foyer until another set of doors opened, and much to Draco’s surprise, a couple of Death Eaters walked in. “What are you doing here?” Draco demanded, glaring at them.

The Death Eaters stopped, looking confused at Draco. “We could ask you that, brat,” one of them growled.

“This is my house!” Draco said, feeling his inner dragon growing as he glared at the intruders. He could already feel his teeth sharpening.

The Death Eaters laughed and said, “This is our base of operations Malfoy! You should learn to treat us with more respect—“

Lucius Malfoy walked into the foyer and stopped when he saw his son. He looked down at him and said, “Draco, what are you doing here?”

“It’s Christmas break father,” Draco said.

“Is it? Time must have slip away from us,” Lucius said a bit coldly. He looked towards the two Death Eaters and said, “Our Lord’s pet requires food. Go get some.”

“Yes Mr. Malfoy,” the two Death Eaters muttered. They walked across the foyer and past Draco, smirking at the Drogo.

Draco, however, seemed to pale. “What do you mean… ‘our Lord?’” he asked his father.

Lucius simply smirked at his son and said, “Why, nothing more than to say that the Dark Lord is back, and is very interested to meeting you.”

Draco’s world shattered. It couldn’t be! He couldn’t be back. It’s impossible! Harry killed him, Draco know Harry killed him, his poor mate told him every detail and the nightmares it gave him! The devil’s body should be rotting away in the River Lea! Skin paper-white he simply looked at his father.

“But first, your friend is here giving his report,” Lucius said. “You will come with me and listen in. When you both return to Hogwarts, you will help him complete his task. Come along.” And without waiting, Lucius Malfoy turned away from his son and continued walking, as if expecting him to follow submissively.

Unfortunately for the human, the Drogo stood his ground. “You’re lying. He cannot be alive. Harry killed the son of a bitch! He killed him!”

“You’re right,” a cold voice said from behind Draco. Draco turned on his heels and felt every ounce of power and courage drain from his body as he felt a dark, powerful presence standing over him. The tall, handsome man looked down at Draco, a monstrous smile on his face as a low, slow chuckle came out of his pale lips. “Harry Potter did kill me Draco,” the man said as he walked past the dragon. Draco was too scared to move, too scared to transform or do anything. His eyes and body simply followed the man as he continued his way down the foyer, each step reverberating off of the walls and stomping onto Draco’s heart. “But as you can see, I have come back more powerful than before. And this time, a stray Stunner to the heart will not kill me.”

“You can’t be…” Draco said in disbelief. “Harry killed you… he told me…”

“Despite whatever Potter said, your master is back,” Voldemort said, looking at the dragon, his dark eyes gliding over Draco’s new taller, stronger form. “And I see that Lucius wasn’t lying about you gaining a new ability as well. A creature inheritance will be a useful tool in my revenge. Come Draco, your classmate is waiting.”

Voldemort turned from Draco and walked away through a door. Anger rose in Draco, but his fear overwhelmed it. How could he be back? How? Despite his wishes to just run away or snap the man’s neck in half, an easy thing for a Drogo, Draco found himself walked towards Voldemort, following the monster into the drawing room. The room had changed much over the months, the fireplace now emitting a cold green fire instead of the usual blazing red one, and there were no Christmas decorations or any family memorabilia that used to litter the walls. Instead, there was only one high chair whose back was to the fire, and four smaller armchairs surrounding it, two of which were occupied. Draco, despite being a scared six foot four muscular wizard, still walked in with grace. His grace, however, stopped abruptly when he noticed who was sitting in one of the smaller armchairs, next to his father.

“Nott! What the blazes are you doing here?” he demanded of Theodore Nott, who simply looked at Draco for a minute before smiling.

“Nice to see you finally came, Draco,” he said. “With your help, everything will run a lot smoother. Our mission will surely be finished before finals now that you’re here.”

“And what mission is that Nott?” Draco asked, crossing his arms. He hated having his feeling of dominance being taken away so easily by Voldemort. He needed just a shred of that feeling back, so he causally flexed his muscles as he stared down at Nott. He smirked at his sought after reaction as Nott stuttered a bit.

“You will kill Dumbledore, boy,” Voldemort said. And with his cold voice, any dominance Draco felt was gone again.

“Dumbledore?” Draco said shocked. “But—why?”

“You dare question your master?” Voldemort asked, raising a perfect eyebrow. “I heard you’ve received a dragon inheritance, Draco. Dragons should become very obedient to their masters, Malfoy. Remember that.”

“I will not become obedient to you,” Draco growled, steam flaring from his nose. “I am only obedient to my mate. My submissive.”

“Yes, about that… Nott here has told me about that,” Voldemort nodded. “He feared that your… friendship with Potter has soften you. So as you follow Nott’s instructions to assassinate Dumbledore, you will also kill Potter and his friends. After that, Lucius here will see about you mating with the correct gender.”

Theodore Nott laughed at that, and Draco growled. His skin instantly became metallic, razor-sharp claws sprouting from his hands as he transformed. Voldemort simply watched amused as the large Slytherin turned into a large Drogo, his wings outstretched before folding in, his spiked-tail whipping dangerously in the air. Nott jumped into the air and shrank against the wall as Draco turned his sight on him, Silver wisps of fire threatened past his teeth. “Stupid human,” Draco hissed. “Do not threaten my mate.”

Draco made a lunge at Nott, his mouth opened as he aimed to bite the offending human in half. But before he could get even close, he was pushed away, his body slamming against the opposite wall. His tail whipped against the fireplace, and it collapsed, bricks and mortar extinguishing the fire. Draco turned and glared at the Dark Lord, who waved his wand lazily. “Tut, tut Draco. You do not attack your betters,” Voldemort mocked.

Draco stared at the man, anger and a great need to protect his mate fueling him. He was merely shocked at the attack. There should be no power more powerful than a Drogo! Voldemort walked around the dragon and examined him. “I must say, I am very uncommon with Dragon species,” Voldemort said. “Tell me Lucius, what breed is he?”

“I’m afraid we do not know my lord,” Lucius said. “From our brief encounter with the beast, we cannot find anything him.”

The dragon looked between the two men. They don’t know what he is? The idiots. A chuckle came from the back of his throat, echoing through the manor as he got onto his feet, easily shaking off whatever damage the monster dreamed of doing to him. “I see… you do not know what we are… poor stupid fools. Do you not realize you’re facing a Drogo, King of the Dragons. Your spells will not work on me,” Draco declared. His claws itched to tear the three humans in this room. Nott looked at Draco fearfully, his entire body quivering as he tried to get as far away from the dragon as possible. His father looked incredibly angry, once again his son refusing to be under his control.

But Voldemort, Voldemort was smiling. “I see, thank you Draco, for informing us,” he said. “I see now that you are a truly powerful dragon, shrugging off my spell as easily as that. I wonder, however, if your mate is as powerful as that.”

“What do you mean?” Draco demanded.

Voldemort just smirked at Draco. “Your mate is Harry Potter, it is very clear now, and right now your aunt is on her way to kill him. I wonder how well you will behave with your mate dead Draco.”

Voldemort began to laugh as Draco roared in pure anger, flames erupted all around him, and he cast the entire room to a silvery blaze. Voldemort and his father were quick enough to cast Shield charms, Voldemort just standing perfectly still as the room burned around them, but his father running out and away from the fire. Nott wasn’t so lucky as he casted his shield a second too late, the flames getting his wand-arm. Draco left the humans to their fate and burst through the walls, knocking away the wood and plaster as he ran back to the foyer. His claws dug marks and tears in the floorings as he two front legs operated as hands and grabbed his trunk.

With a snarl, Draco burned down the doors and left into the snowy air, his wings extending fully as he took flight. Mate. Harry. He needed to save his mate. His wings beating powerfully, Draco flew away from Malfoy Manor and into the sky. He knows where his mate is, after being in close encounter with his boy, he can always sense him, so he followed his senses as he eyes scanned for his aunt. Knowing Bellatrix Lestrange, she would not instantly Apparate to the Burrow, no she would take her time flying through the clouds, her anticipation for the kill rising with each gleeful laugh.

With each beat of his powerful wings, Draco flew farther and farther, gaining speed consistently until he was practically cutting through the air. It was ten minutes after searching that he found his aunt, or rather black smoke darting straight towards his mate, who was still hundreds of miles away. Draco growled as his aunts laughing reached his ears. He dove and slashed at the smoke. The smoke disappeared, replaced by his aunt on a broom. “What’s the matter Draco? Scared I’ll hurt your boy-toy?” Bellatrix laughed. She turned to fly away, as if taunting Draco to chase her, but the Drogo would have none of that.

He breathed the silver fire once more, and the end of the broomstick caught on fire. Bellatrix stopped for a second, but that was all Draco needed as he rushed past her, grabbing her body with his back two legs, his claws digging into her body. Then, with the slightest of ease, Draco pulled the legs apart, a wet, sickening crunching and ripping noise filling the air as the dragon ripped the body in two before letting go, the pieces falling to the ground.

Pleased that he protected his mate, the Drogo only gained speed, his adrenaline being replaced by a great need to touch Harry. Before he knew it, the Drogo found himself near the edge of the Burrow, and had to quickly dive into the forest before he was spotted. The snow melted from his hot body as the dragon looked around, lifting his head for his mate’s smell. He took a couple of steps before turning back into a human, lifting his trunk as he continued to follow the smell.

When he reached what he guessed was a house that seemed to be only held up by magic, he was assaulted with the smell of his mate. “Harry!” he yelled. As if waiting, the door to the yard opened and Harry ran out.

“Jesus Draco what are you doing here—“

Harry wasn’t able to finish his sentence as Draco rushed towards him, trunk abandoned on the snow. He lifted the small Gryffindor up and slammed him against the doorframe, smothering him with his body as his lips took Harry’s. It was heated, it was dominating, it was needy and both boys loved every second of it. After Harry got over the shock he kissed in return with zealous, his arms holding onto Draco for dear life as his legs barely dangled over the floor. Leaning his body against Harry’s, his defined, muscular chest pushing against Harry’s skinny tone chest, Draco’s arms clawed at Harry’s legs, making Harry wrap them around his waist. Draco returned his arms around Harry’s back and continued kissing, both boys lost to their hormones. Harry didn’t know what was going on, why he was kissing Draco with such need, such heated passion. It was as if he was waiting, longing to kiss Draco, to touch Draco for months. “Mate, mate,” Draco growled against his lips. Harry just moaned and submitted himself to this moment, leaning on Draco for full strength as he let it happen.

When Draco’s needs calmed down, he still held onto Harry tightly, needing the perfectly small frame against his body. “Hold onto me Harry,” he growled. Harry nodded, and despite their situation gave a snort as Draco walked back out to the cold to get his trunk. During the entire walk, Harry was just all too aware of Draco’s clothed hard cock pushing upwards towards his clothed ass.

“Draco… what’s going on? What happened—why did we just kiss like that?” Harry asked.

Draco looked down at him and sighed. “I wanted to wait for a more perfect moment, but Voldemort forced me to act.”

“Voldemort… but I didn’t tell you about him,” Harry said.

“You knew—never mind. The bastard is using my manor as his base,” Draco said. “He threatened your safety and I got out as soon as I can, setting fire to the room. He survived though. … but my aunt didn’t. Voldemort sent her to kill you, but I intervened.”

“Draco…” Harry said, not sure to be relieved that Draco protected him from Voldemort, or disturbed that his boyfriend committed murder.

“Everything will be fine Harry… we’re together again, just as it’s supposed to be,” Draco said.

“As it’s supposed to mean? What you talking about?”

“I already told you Harry,” Draco said. “You’re my mate. … As in, you are my lover, my heart, and everything corny you can think of. And I,” Draco’s voice taking his usual cocky attitude, “am the only one who can kiss you, smother you, and fuck you senseless until you can only chant my name. Not that Finnigan mick.”

“Well… you definitely are a better kisser than Seamus,” Harry breathed, his mind too lewd to think clearly. “Wait—hold on, does that mean…” Harry gasped as he stared at Draco. “The boy, in my dreams during the summer. Were they you?”

“Of course they were Harry,” Draco chuckled. He leaned down against Harry’s ear and whispered, “Your cock is mine to play with Harry, remember? Were you a good boy and listen to me? Did you ever touched your cock?”

Harry’s entire face went red as he tried to push Draco away. “Shut it you git,” he tried to say, hiding his embarrassment.

“Answer the question Harry. Did you listen to me?”

“…yes,” Harry whispered.

Draco smiled, “Good… now, since it’s been months since we both released, I’m sure we’re both aching to, aren’t we?”

Reality seemed to spring on Harry as he pushed Draco away, his cock hard and leaking. “No, not now,” he said, crossing his arms. “Not until you explain everything that’s going on Knife-ears.”

Draco chuckled and took a step back. “Of course Harry, I’m sorry about all that. Just after what happened… I’ve let my Drogo control me again.”

“I’m not talking about that,” Harry said, not caring about his red his face is or the fact that they were in the Weasley’s kitchen with a mountain of sprouts still needing peeling (Ron went to the bathroom a while ago). “That was hot, and you better not fall back from that when we have the time, but that will only come after you explain every single thing Draco. Understand.”

Draco stared at his mate before laughing, an honest smile gracing his face. “Of course Harry, of course.” He kissed his mate’s cheek and said, “I would never dream of mating with you before you knew absolutely everything.”

“Good,” Harry huffed. His eyes glanced down at Draco’s pants and Draco smirked at the look Harry gave him.

“I’m soft Harry, believe me,” Draco said, adjusting his pants slightly. “And trust me when I say I’m a grower.”

“You’re worse than that damn Incubus, I swear,” Harry said, hiding his embarrassment as he went to the sprouts again. He furiously peeled a sprout, Draco watching all the while, before stopping and saying softly, “I’m glad you’re here Draco. … I missed you.”

“I missed you too Harry,” Draco said sincerely.

Harry turned to Draco and smile. “Good… how bout you come here and help with the sprouts. I think it’ll help your image if Mrs. Weasley finds you working.”

Draco chuckled but obliged, walking to stand next to his mate. He grabbed a knife and started peeling, frowning a bit. “How do muggles stand to use these things?” he complained as his knife slip.

“Stupid lizard,” Harry said shaking his head, their moment ruined.

 

“God you’re big! When the hell did this happened Malfoy?” The twins demanded. Draco looked towards them and smirked when he noticed that they were now equal height. Draco and Harry were still in the kitchen peeling sprouts, Ron taking the moment to slack off a bit as he rattled off questions towards the dragon. Most of the questions were about his creature inheritance, and how many mates Draco needed to be stable.

“Puberty was kind to him,” Harry answered simply, reaching across Draco for another sprout. He looked over at the twins and raised an eyebrow, “Why? Is there something the matter Fred? George?” Harry asked innocently, looking past Draco.

The pranksters simply shook their heads, too shock for words. Harry gave an innocent smile and said, “Really? Wasn’t there something you guys told us not long ago? About ‘not letting that prat just step into your homes’?” Harry smiled. The twins sized Draco up, the dragon simply standing there confused, knife and sprout in hand.

The twins simply shook their heads again, “No Malfoy… it’s eh great to see you here,” George said.

“Yeah, really great—is that Mum calling us? Later guys!” Fred said, the twins turning tail and rushing out of the kitchen. Harry started laughing as Draco turned towards him, “And what exactly was that about Harry?” Draco asked.

“Don’t worry about it Knife-ears,” Harry said. Ron, however, just stared at Harry. “Where the bloody hell did that come from?” he asked.

“What?” Harry asked.

“That! Whatever that was,” Ron said. “I’ve never seen you act like that mate.”

“Oh umm… I guess Draco’s attitude is rubbing off of me a bit,” Harry said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Right…” Ron said, “just don’t do it in front of me, yeah? It’s scary.”

“Sorry,” Harry muttered. “I’ll try and keep my Draco-ness in line.”

Ron nodded and continued to watch the two boys peel the sprouts. “Hey Malfoy, you’re a dragon right? With the claws and everything? Why can’t you use, you know, use those claws to peel the rest of the sprouts?”

“Yeah, why can’t you?” Harry asked, looking at his boyfriend…mate.

“Seriously?” Draco asked. “My claws are not made for peeling sprouts Harry, they’re for tearing things to shreds.”

“Still… would make this go by a lot faster,” Ron muttered.

When they were done peeling the mountain of sprouts, Mrs. Weasley came in again to check on their progress, stopping when she noticed Draco. “And when did you arrive?” she asked.

“A couple of hours ago,” Harry said. He looked at Draco and frowned, not clearly knowing what is going on but not wanting to lie to Mrs. Weasley. “He and his parents had a fight… because of Voldemort.”

Mrs. Weasley jumped into the air at the sound of Voldemort’s name but calmed quickly, looking at Draco. “I guess we can squeeze you into the attic with Harry and Ron,” she began saying. “And you’re done peeling the sprouts, good. Well, Remus is still coming in tonight, hopefully your being here will not cause too much of a stir. Harry, be a dear and show your guest where he’ll be sleeping, will you? I’ll send Bill up later to make him a bed.”

“Yes Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said. He dropped the knife and walked towards Draco’s trunk. “Come on,” he said to Draco.

Draco reached for the trunk and plucked it out of Harry’s hand. The two left the kitchen and went up the many-floored stairway. “So who else is here?” Draco asked, carrying the trunk with ease.

“Well, the Weasleys obviously, except for Charlie and Percy,” Harry began. “Though, I’m a bit sad Charlie’s not here, he’s a great guy. Works in Romania with dragons, I think he’ll love learning about your inheritance. As for Percy… its best not to mention him here. But the other Weasleys are here, as well as Fleur. She’s uh Bill’s fiancé.”

Draco nodded and said, “And this… Remus guy?”

“Professor Lupin,” Harry said automatically. “Remember?”

“Right, the werewolf,” Draco said. “He’s not going to be… mad at me right? After my father basically forced him out?”

“I don’t know… but I’m sure he’ll understand,” Harry said. “Come on, here’s Ron’s room.”

Draco sneered a bit at the assault of orange as they walked into the room. Every piece of the walls were covered of posters and pictures of the Chudley Cannons. “He’s a Cannons fan?” Draco said in disbelief. “My best friend is going to marry a Chudley Cannons fan… the poor man.”

Harry chuckled and shook his head. “Well, I’m sure Ron isn’t going to bring all of his posters,” he said.

“It’s still the fact that Weasley is cheering for the Cannons,” Draco said, placing his trunk down next to Harry’s and sat on his bed.

“And what team do you cheer for, oh mighty dragon?” Harry asked, smirking at himself as he sat down next to Draco. Draco pulled Harry into his lap.

“That is easy,” Draco said. “The Holyhead Harpies.”

“Huh,” was all Harry said, relaxing into Draco’s body. He could easily get used to this feeling. They both relaxed in each other’s presence, Draco falling back to lay down on the bed as they rest in peace.

Draco’s introduction to the Weasleys went more smoothly than Harry would have guessed it. During dinner Draco sat next to him as the Weasleys and their guests sat around the table, Mr. Weasley arriving late because of his work at the Ministry. The male Weasleys only stopped momentarily to stare at Draco before sitting down. Ginny, however, seemed insulted. “What is Malfoy doing here?” she demanded.

“I invited him,” Harry said a bit heated. “I didn’t want my boyfriend spending Christmas alone with his parents.”

“Why not? The ferret seems to be fine there the last few years,” Ginny argued.

“Because I do not want to be under the same roof as Voldemort,” Draco said heatedly. He looked towards the walls and saw the Weasley clock, all nine faces pointed towards “Mortal Peril.” He pointed at that and said, “See that? The Dark Lord has returned, and everyone is in danger. It would be suicide to stay in the same house as that madman.”

“He already saved me,” Harry butted in. “Voldemort sent Lestrange to kill me. Draco stopped her.”

“Oh? And where is she?” Ginny demanded.

“She fell,” Draco said simply. The room seemed to take his answer as there was no more discussion about that.

Harry’s mood greatly lifted as he and Draco spent the break together. They were practically joined by the hip the entire day and every night, Draco following Harry like a solid shadow. A shadow that still haven’t told Harry every. But both of them neither pushed the discussion, instead just enjoying the other’s presence as the days slowly counted down to Christmas. Draco’s dragon was shocked to find out that there was both a half-Veela and a werewolf in here, but shrugged them off as the dragon noted cockily that he was superior. Though, he was not superior to his cheeky mate when it come to Quidditch. Much like his promise, Harry and Draco played Quidditch any chance they could with the Weasleys and Harry seemed to always win for some reason.

On Christmas Eve night the Weasleys and their guests were sitting in the living room, which Ginny had decorated so lavishly that it was rather like sitting in a paper-chain explosion. Fred, George, Harry, and Ron were the only ones who knew that the angel on top of the tree was actually a garden gnome that had bitten Fred on the ankle as he pulled up carrots for Christmas dinner. Stupefied, painted gold, stuffed into a miniature tutu and with small wings glued to its back, it glowered down at them all, the ugliest angel Harry had ever seen, with a large bald head like a potato and rather hairy feet.

They were all supposed to be listening to a Christmas broadcast by Mrs. Weasley’s favorite singer, Celestina Warbeck, whose voice was warbling out of the large wooden wireless set. Fleur, who seemed to find Celestina very dull, was talking so loudly in the corner that a scowling Mrs. Weasley kept pointing her wand at the volume control, so that Celestina grew louder and louder. The twins and Ginny played a game of Exploding Snap; Ron kept shooting Bill and Fleur covert looks, as though he was hoping to pick up tips to use on Blaise. Meanwhile, Remus Lupin, who was thinner and more ragged-looking than ever, was sitting beside the fire, staring into its depths as though he could not hear Celestina’s voice.

“We danced to this when we were eighteen!” Mrs. Weasley said, wiping her eyes on her knitting. “Do you remember, Arthur?”

“Mphf?” Mr. Weasley said, whose head had been nodding over the Satsuma he was peeling. “Oh yes …marvelous tune …”

With an effort, he sat up a little straighter and looked around at Harry and Draco, who were sharing the seat next to him. “Sorry about this,” he said, jerking his head toward the wireless as Celestina broke into the chorus. “Be over soon.”

“No problem,” Harry said, grinning. “Has it been busy at the Ministry?”

“Very,” Mr. Weasley said. “I wouldn’t mind if we were getting anywhere, but of the three arrests we’ve made in the last couple of months, I doubt that one of them is a genuine Death Eater.”

“They aren’t,” Draco stated. “I know all of the Death Eaters, even the nameless lot, and none of them are captured.”

“Yes, that makes things more difficult,” Mr. Weasley said “now that You-Know-Who is back… again. But the top levels want to look as though they’re making some progress, and ‘three arrests’ sounds better than ‘three mistaken arrests and releases’ …but again, this is all top secret. …”

“The Death Eaters are using Malfoy Manor as their base,” Draco said. “If some of the Aurors watch the place, they can start catching the dumb ones. Though… Voldemort is there as well. And he looks different.”

“Different how?” Harry asked.

“He looks like a man, a handsome man,” Draco said. “I’m guessing that was what he looked like before whatever happened to his body. But whatever he did… it made him powerful, very powerful.”

“Great…” Harry muttered to himself. Draco patted Harry’s back in comfort, but still talked to Mr. Weasley. “There are also several dark artifacts in my manor that I would personally want out of my home,” Draco continued. “In the foyer there is a large ornate vase sitting on a table on the far right. Behind it is a knob that pushes to reveal a stairway. Dark objects from my mother’s family as well as my father’s are hidden there.”

“Thank you Draco, I’ll tell Kingsley about this as soon as possible,” Mr. Weasley said.

When the song ended, Mr. Weasley got up to get everyone some eggnog. Harry moved to sit more comfortably on the chair with Draco. “You have to move like that?” Draco whispered at Harry. “You are making my pants very tight Harry.”

“Just shut it and enjoy it Draco,” Harry said, relaxing again. “Payback for not coming to the Burrow with me when we got off the train.”

“Just wait until I get you alone Harry,” Draco whispered. “You have no idea how much I had to hold my dragon back and change.”

“I know some of it,” Harry said. “Though, that again you need to explain. Wait… you don’t need two mates like Blaise, do you?”

“No Harry, don’t worry,” Draco chuckled. “You are the only boy for me. Dragons are greedy creatures, but we only like one lover to shower affections with.”

“And something else,” Harry muttered, moving around again. He chuckled to Draco’s annoyed grunts and turned his attention to Remus. “What have you been up to lately?” he asked.

“Oh, I’ve been underground,” Lupin said. “Almost literally. That’s why I haven’t been able to write, Harry; sending letters to you would have been something of a giveaway.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been living among my fells, my equals,” Lupin said. “Werewolves,” he added at Harry’s look of incomprehension. “Nearly all of them are on Voldemort’s side. Dumbledore wanted a spy and here I was …ready-made.”

He sounded a little bitter, and perhaps realized it, for he smiled more warmly as he went on, “I am not complaining; it is necessary work and who can do it better than I? However, it has been difficult gaining their trust. I bear the unmistakable signs of having tried to live among wizards, you see, whereas they have shunned normal society and live on the margins, stealing—and sometimes killing—to eat.”

“How come they like Voldemort?”

“The wolves think that under his rule, they would have a better life,” Draco said. “A hard thing to argue against, especially when you’re arguing against Fenrir Greyback.”

“Who?”

“Fenrir Greyback,” Draco explained. “He is the most savage werewolf alive today. His mission in life is to bite and contaminate everyone. Not that we have any issues with that,” Draco winked at Harry, who just gave him a weird look. “Anyway, I’m guessing Voldemort has promised him prey or something right, Professor?”

“Yes,” Lupin nodded. “Voldemort has promised him prey in return for his services. Greyback specializes in children. …Bite them young, he says, and rise them away from their parents, raise them to hate normal wizards. Voldemort has threatened to unleash him upon people’s sons and daughters; it is a threat that usually produces good results.”

Lupin paused and then said, “It was Greyback who bit me.”

“What?” Harry said astonished. “When—when you were a kid, you mean?”

“Yes,” Lupin said.

“Greyback makes sure that when he transforms, he is near his victims,” Draco told Harry. “My father told me this; Greyback is different from the rest of the werewolves. He plans his attacks so that he can infect as many people as possible. I’m guessing whatever argument Professor Lupin gave was nothing against his desire for blood and revenge.”

“That’s correct,” Lupin nodded.

“Draco? What do you mean when you said that Greyback won’t give us any issues?” Harry asked.

“Simple Harry, for one I’m a Drogo, it’s impossible to force a creature to change into another one,” Draco said, waving his hand as if it was obvious. “And two, when I finally get you where I want you, you’ll have some Drogo blood running through you.”

“What—“

Harry’s questioning came to a stop when Fleur decided to imitate Celestina singing “A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love,” which was taken by everyone, once they glimpsed Mrs. Weasley’s expression, to be the cue to go to bed. Harry, Ron, and Draco climbed all the way up to Ron’s attic bedroom, where two camp beds had been added for Harry and Draco.

The next morning Harry woke with a start to find a bulging stocking lying over the end of his bed. He put on his glasses and looked around; the tiny window was almost completely obscured with snow. Draco looked shocked when he saw he had a stocking at the end of his bed, and looked at Harry, confused. Harry shrugged and went to his stocking. His presents included a sweater with a large Golden Snitch worked onto the front, hand-knitted by Mrs. Weasley, a large box of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes products from the twins, and a slightly damp, moldy-smelling package that came with a label reading “To master from Kreacher.”

“That does not look safe to open,” Draco said, examining his own sweater. “When did Mrs. Weasley have the time to make this?” he asked. Harry looked and saw that Draco did indeed have a green sweater with a “D” on it.

Harry just shrugged and turned his attention back to the damp moldy-smelling package. “Should I open it?” he asked.

“Can’t be anything dangerous, all our mail’s still being searched at the Ministry,” Ron replied, though he was eyeing the parcel suspiciously. A moment later, Harry had given a loud yell and leapt out of his camp bed; the package contained a large number of maggots.

“Nice,” Ron said, roaring with laughter. “Very thoughtful.”

Harry grimaced at the maggots as Draco, with an equal grimace, scooped them back into the package and burned them, the parcel and maggots being reduced to ash. “There we are… I think I’m going to wash now,” Draco said, his face still looking disgusted at the thought of touching maggots.

Everybody was wearing new sweaters when they all sat down for Christmas lunch, everyone except Fleur (on whom, it appeared, Mrs. Weasley had not wanted to waste one) and Mrs. Weasley herself, who was sporting a brand-new midnight blue witch’s hat glittering with what looked like tiny starlike diamonds, and a spectacular golden necklace.

“Fred and George gave them to me! Aren’t they beautiful?”

“Well we find we appreciate you more and more, Mum, now we’re washing our own socks,” George said, waving an airy hand.

“Draco,” Harry whispered, brushing his hair behind his ear, showing his dragon tooth earring. “Just so you know, don’t buy me jewelry like that… ever.”

“Not even a wedding ring Harry?” Draco chuckled.

Harry shot him a glare, but Bill interrupted him. “Harry, since when did you get your ear pierced?” Bill’s question gotten the table’s attention, as they all turned towards Harry.

“Ear pieced?” Mrs. Weasley asked hotly, her eyes zeroing in on the dragon’s fang.

“Uhh yeah…” Harry said, his face flushed. “I got it one time at Hogsmeade.”

“Cool Harry,” Fred said. “What is it?”

“A dragon’s tooth, though I don’t know which one.”

“Sweet,” George smirked.

Ginny just stared at Harry as Mrs. Weasley frowned, clearly disapproving the earring but not in a position to talk about it.

Needing a way to get away from everyone’s stares, Harry turned to Draco and said, “Follow me.”

The two boys excused themselves from the table, and the Slytherin followed the Gryffindor out of the kitchen through the doorway. “Where are we going Harry?” Draco asked.

“Just follow me,” Harry said. He led Draco away from the Burrow towards the woods. Once they were a far ways away from the Burrow, and completely surrounded by trees, Harry stopped and turned towards Draco. “I know what I want you to do, for losing the bet,” Harry said.

“Oh?” Draco asked, crossing his arms.

Harry blushed and nodded. “Show me your dragon form. We’re boyfriends… mates, like you said. It’s inevitable that we get together yeah? So, I want to see your dragon form.”

Draco smirked. “Okay Harry, of course.” He took a couple of steps away from Harry and gave him a wink as he started to transform. Harry watched in silent awe as flames began to circle around Draco, his boyfriend falling onto all fours as his hands and feet started to transform. His clothes seemed to disappear in the fire, Harry getting a glimpse of his naked body for only a second before it began to turn into a metallic color. Claws started to grow from his hands and feet as his tail elongated from his backside. Harry jumped back in surprise as the tail swung around, smashing into a tree. When the flames disappeared, Draco was no longer there, instead replaced by a dragon with silver scales. “Draco?” he said cautiously.

“Yes,” the dragon chuckled, folding his wings towards his body. “Come on touch me, I promise I won’t bite you this time,” the dragon taunted.

Slowly Harry walked up to the dragon, his hand outreached as gradually his fingers touched and rested against Draco’s scales. This was the closest Harry has been to any dragon. The last dragon Harry has even been remotely close to was the Hungarian Horntail during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and during that time Harry was more preoccupied on not dying to notice the subtle beauty of dragons.

“So warm,” Harry noted, rubbing his hands on the smooth scales of Draco’s body. It felt like a personal body heater. Harry could just imagine himself falling asleep on Draco in this form. The dragon hummed and purred in approval. “Only for you mate,” the dragon said. “Anyone else who dares touch my scales will be burned.”

Harry just nodded as he continued to glide his hands over Draco’s immense body, smiling at the feeling of heat and muscles everywhere, surprised at how perfectly the scales fitted with each other. He moved slowly, examining every inch of Draco’s body, smiling as the dragon just sat and made noises of approval. With each second Harry spent with the dragon, the safer and protected Harry felt. He felt like he just wanted to hold onto Draco, submitting to him and allowing the Drogo to protect him from everything and anything. With thoughts of submission came lewd, heated feelings as he reached Draco’s head, holding onto him gingerly. “How do we mate?” he asked.

The dragon chuckled and gave Harry a gentle smile. “Do you want that Harry?” he asked.

“Not now in the forest, obviously,” Harry said, “but yeah… yeah, I think I want to mate with you.”

The dragon smiled a leering, lustful smile and said, “Perfect. I’m happy you said that, Harry. In order for us to mate, it is simple. I need to take you, and bury my seed deep inside you. In both this form and my human form.”

A shiver went down Harry’s spine. He was going to have sex with a dragon!? How the hell is that supposed to work?

“Don’t worry, I’m positive that it’ll fit,” Draco chuckled. “After a long preparation of course.”

“S-Shut up,” Harry blushed, trying to control his cheeks. “Let’s just head back to the Burrow.”

“Okay,” the dragon chuckled. Again there was a flash of fire and Draco stood there fully clothed. He went up to Harry and grabbed his hand, “though I’m sure you’re going to love it either way.”


	13. Dumbledore Warned

Chapter 13

Dumbledore Warned

A few days after New Year’s Day, Harry and the others returned to Hogwarts. The Ministry had arranged a one-off connection from Hogwarts to the Floo Network to return students quickly and safely.  Only Mrs. Weasley was there to say good-bye, as Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, Bill, and Fleur were all at work.

To save time Draco decided to use the Floo with Harry after hearing about Harry’s first disastrous trip, much to Harry’s embarrassment. Draco through the floo powder and yelled “Hogwarts!” The flames engulfed them; spinning very fast, Harry caught blurred glimpses of other Wizarding rooms, which were whippsed out of sight before he could get a proper look; then he was slowing down, finally stopping squarely in the fireplace in Professor McGonagall’s office. She barely glanced up from her work as Harry clambered out over the grate, followed by Draco.

“Evening Potter, Malfoy. Try not to get too much ash on the carpet.”

“No, Professor.”

Harry straightened his glasses and flattened his hair as Ron came spinning into view.

“Where is Professor Dumbledore?” Draco demanded. “It’s important.”

“Oh?” Professor McGonagall questioned, in the background Ginny came into view and left the office towards Gryffindor Tower.

“Yes,” Draco said. “It is about Harry’s lessons with him. It is very important,” Draco stressed again.

Professor McGonagall looked at Draco for a while before saying. “Professor Dumbledore is busy in his office. However, if it is as important as you stress it is, then I suggest both of you head up to him immediately.”

Harry and Draco left. Harry lead the way towards the gargoyle that stood guard over the revolving staircase, their running echoing down the corridors. “Acid Pops!” Harry yelled at the gargoyle. It jumped into life and moved out of the way, Harry getting on the first step and rode the ascending staircase. Draco was only a step behind him.

As soon as the top stair leveled with the door, Harry’s fist banged on the door. “Come in,” Dumbledore’s voice called from behind.

The boys did and Dumbledore smiled at them from his desk. The broken ring still sitting on it. “Ahh, Harry and Draco. To what do I owe this hastened surprise?”

Both Harry and Draco looked at each other, Harry motioning to Draco subtly to start telling Dumbledore. Draco nodded and sat down in one of the chairs facing the desk. “It is a long story, Professor.”

“Luckily I believe we are all very patient men, Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore said simply.

Draco turned his attention on the old man, and began recounting his first half of his holiday break. “I went to my home for Christmas break as normal, even though my current relationship with my parents are… strain. It is try what everyone says, both my mother and my father are Death Eaters. Though only my father holds the mark. Malfoy Manor was overrun with Death Eaters as I stepped inside, my mother and father failed to meet me at the station and as soon as I stepped in, I could understand why. The Dark Lord, he is back… and he looks different.

“He wasn’t as he looked at the Ministry of Magic. He looked younger, human-like. If I wasn’t afraid of his power, I would dare to describe him as handsome. He was in my home; acting as though it were his and my family was only his servants. He and my father forced me into the office, acting as though I was finally going to act in their plan that I want nothing to do with. Do you remember the cursed necklace that sent Katie to St. Mungo’s? I finally know who sent it. It was Theodore Nott. Nott was employed by the Death Eaters to try and assassinate you. And after killing you, I were supposed to kill my ma—boyfriend Harry and his friends. Voldemort told me that he had already sent my aunt to attack the Burrow where Harry was. After that, I’ve lost it. I burned the entire room, hitting Nott’s arm but Voldemort defected it easily, then I flew towards the Burrow… taking care of my aunt.”

Dumbledore nodded as he listened to Draco. When the boy was finished, Dumbledore was silent for a moment before asking, “And how, if you are willing to tell me, did you fly and burn down the room?”

Harry glanced at Draco, a small look of embarrassment and bashfulness hinting his cheeks. Draco took it in stride and answered calmly, “On my sixteenth birthday I have received a Creature Inheritance. A dragon, to be precise, and a Drogo to be more specific.”

“A Drogo? Did you say a Drogo?” Dumbledore asked, looking completely interested.

“Yes,” Draco nodded.

“Fascinating… yes, yes that might work, though I hope I am incorrect,” Dumbledore muttered.

“Sir, what are you thinking about?” Harry asked.

Dumbledore was quiet for another moment before saying, “I was going to show you this memory tomorrow Harry, I have given my letter to Miss Granger to hand to you, but I suppose today will do.” Dumbledore stood from his desk and moved around towards the corner cabinet. Harry watched as Dumbledore pulled out the Pensieve. “I am sorry Draco, if I fall under the assumption that Harry here has told you of all the events our meetings have watched.”

“He did,” Draco nodded.

“Good. Then, we shall continue the story of Tom Riddle. Last lesson Harry, we have left Riddle need the end of his academic career. He had already gathered out the first Death Eaters, and has seemed to look forward towards the future. Now, this is the most important memory that I was able to collect. And so, without any hesitation, into the fray once more Harry. And Draco, this time you will have the honor of witnessing Harry’s lesson first hand, instead of hearing from him later.” Dumbledore chuckled as he placed the Pensieve onto the desk and poured the memory out of a crystal phial.

Harry fell through the silver surface once more, landing in front of a man he recognized at once.

It was a much younger Horace Slughorn. Harry was so used to him bald that he found the sight of Slughorn with thick, shiny, straw-colored hair quite disconcerting; it looked as though he had had his head thatched, though there was already a shiny Galleon-sized bald patch on his crown. Harry turned to see Draco appearing next to him, and saw that his boyfriend has the same shock that he did. The boys looked around as Dumbledore appeared beside them and saw that they were standing in Slughorn’s office. Half a dozen boys were sitting around Slughorn, all on harder or lower seats than his, and all in their mid-teens.

Harry felt Draco flinch as he pointed to Voldemort. “There he is, he looked older but… that’s definitely him,” Draco said, his skin paling.

“You are correct,” Dumbledore nodded. “Now, let us listen.”

“—I must say, I’d like to know where you get your information, boy, more knowledgeable than half the staff, you are,” Slughorn said to Voldemort.

Riddle smiled; the other boys laughed and cast him admiring looks.

“That’s my grandfather there,” Draco whispered pointing at a blond boy. There was disappointing in Draco’s voice as he stared at his ancestor.

As several of the boys tittered, something very odd happened. The whole room was suddenly filled with a thick white fog, so that Harry could see nothing but Draco’s face. Then Slughorn’s voice rang out through the mist, unnaturally loudly, _“You’ll go wrong, boy, mark my word.”_

The fog cleared as suddenly as it had appeared and yet nobody made any allusion to it, nor did anybody look as though anything unusual had just happened. Harry turned to Draco, to see that he had a perfectly raised eyebrow, his lips frowning slightly at the fog.

It was just Riddle and Slughorn in the room now. “Sir, I wanted to ask you something,” Riddle said.

“Ask away, then, m’boy, ask away. …”

“Sir, I wondered what you know about… about Horcruxes?”

And it happened all over again. The dense fog filled the room so that Harry could once again only see Draco. Then Slughorn’s voice boomed out again.

_“I don’t know anything about Horcruxes and I wouldn’t tell you if I did! Now get out of here at once and don’t let me catch you mentioning them again!”_

“Well, that’s that,” Dumbledore said from behind Harry and Draco. Harry jumped, forgetting that he was there. “Time to go.”

And Harry’s feet left the floor to fall, seconds later, back onto the rug in front of Dumbledore’s desk.

“Sir?” Draco said immediately, “Why did Professor Slughorn alter his memories?”

“I am glad that you have undoubtedly notice, Draco,” Dumbledore said. “The memory has been tampered with.”

“But why would he do that?” Harry asked.

“Because, I think, he is ashamed of what he remembers,” Dumbledore said. “He has tried to rework the memory to show himself in a better light, obliterating those parts which he does not wish me to see. It is, as you will have noticed, very crudely done, and that is all to the good, for it shows that the true memory is still there beneath the alterations. Harry, Draco, I need you both to retrieve that memory.”

“Will it explain what … what was it again, Horcruxes are?” Draco asked.

“I certainly hope so,” Dumbledore answered. “It is very important that we get that memory boys. So, until then Harry. Our lessons are suspended until so. Good night.”

“Okay,” Harry said, taken aback from the abrupt ending of the lesson. “Good night, sir.”

Harry closed the door behind him and Draco and turned his attention to Draco. “How are we going to get that memory?”

“I don’t know,” Draco said. “But right now… I am worried about Nott. My fire only hit his arm.”

“You think he’ll try and turn the rest of the house against you?” Harry asked as they ascended down the spiraling staircase.

“No, those idiots would never dare try and go against a dragon,” Draco said. “I am worried that Nott will try something drastic.”

“Like what?”

“Trying to say that I’m a dragon for one,” Draco said. “Another would be trying to openly duel me. That or try the Killing Curse.”

That stopped Harry in his tracks. He stood under the archway of the staircase as Draco continued to walking. “Draco,” he said, his voice completely different. Meek, tender, and worried.

Draco stopped and turned to see Harry frowning. Draco never saw Harry look so… small before. Harry’s eyes were downcast; his petite hands playing with each other nervously; in one corner of his plump lips, Harry was biting showing a hint of his white teeth. “Draco,” Harry said again in the meek worried voice. To the Drogo it sounded almost like… submission?

“Yes mate, what is it Harry?” Draco whispered. In two long strides Draco backtracked to where Harry was standing and took his boyfriend in his strong arms. Harry just relaxed into them, still frowning.

“What if… what if Nott tries to do something, while you’re sleeping? What if he tries to kill you while you’re sleeping, for revenge for his arm?”

Draco smiled at the worried his mate showed and strike Harry’s cheek. “Don’t worry pet, he won’t do anything. Nott is an id—“

“Don’t tell me he’s an idiot. Idiots are the most dangerous,” Harry said.

Draco nodded. “Okay Harry, I won’t say that. But seriously Harry, don’t you remember who I am?”

“A prat that I unfortunately love,” Harry muttered. Draco smiled, deciding not to mention the love thing right now. Harry needs reassurance.

“I’m a dragon Harry, more specifically a Drogo. King of the Dragons, remember? Now, try and remember how hard are dragon scales?” Draco asked.

Harry thought. “They’re tough… very tough. That’s why we have dragon hide gloves for Herbology.”

“Yes, but with a Drogo’s they’re practically impenetrable. Spells bounces off of our skin easily, even when it’s like this,” Draco said, taking Harry’s hand and have him brush his hand across Draco’s arm. “The Killing Curse cannot and will not harm me. Understand Harry?”

“I guess… but still, he might try something you know? I mean, Drogos have to be hurt by something! Can be killed by anything!” Harry said worried.

Draco frowned. “I’m not going to lie to you Harry. I don’t know much about Drogos, but I know one thing. The easiest way to kill a Drogo would be to kill his mate.”

“That’s reassuring,” Harry said bitterly.

Draco laughed. “As if I’ll let anyone hurt you. Harry, the only pain you’re going to experience is any pain I give you in the bedroom. And let me tell you something, my submissive,” Draco purred, “any pain I’ll give you, you will love.”

Harry moaned, biting his lip harder as his dick hardened. Both boys ignored it as Draco continued. “I’ll be fine Harry. I’m serious. Nott will not harm me. But, if you’re still worried… I’ll sneak into Gryffindor Tower and sleep with you.”

“No, no don’t do that,” Harry shook his head. “You don’t need to do that. Besides, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Draco chuckled. “Then we’ll sleep in our own dorms tonight. Come on pet, I’ll walk to you to the Fat Lady.”

Harry nodded and didn’t offer any resistance as he leaned on Draco, the couple walking silently away from Dumbledore’s office. They both stayed silent as they walked, Draco’s arm wrapped around Harry’s waist, Harry’s head leaning on Draco’s side; the only sound in the castle was the soft echoes of their feet. They took their time, neither one of them not wanting to move from the other. When they’ve reached the portrait, Draco looked at Harry reluctantly. He didn’t want to leave his mate just yet.

“Come on,” Harry yawned. He still felt the meekness from before and for some reason it exhausted him. He walked up to the Fat Lady and said, “Abstinence.”

“Precisely,” the fat Lady said in a feeble voice, and swung forward to reveal the portrait hole.

“Come on,” Harry said grabbing Draco’s hand and returning it to his waist. The two walked into the Gryffindor Common room silently together.

“Harry! There you are, we’ve been looking all over—oh, hi Malfoy,” Hermione said when she saw the two. “Where were you Harry?”

“We needed to see Dumbledore immediately,” Draco said. “Some…things happened over the break that Dumbledore needed to know.”

“Really? What things?” Hermione asked. “I was supposed to give you this, but I don’t suppose you need it anymore,” she added showing the couple a small scroll of parchment with Dumbledore’s writing.

“I’ll tell you later Hermione,” Harry said with a yawn. “Now, I just want to sleep.”

“Alright, we’ll talk in the morning,” Hermione said. Harry nodded and waved her good night. Whispers followed them as Harry directed Draco towards the sixth years boy’s dormitory. Both boys snickered when they heard Hermione’s annoyed voice say “Oh really!”

Draco opened the door and escorted Harry to his bed. “Well, I guess this is where I’ll have to leave you Harry.”

“Night Draco, sorry for all of this,” Harry said.

“Don’t be. I love taking care of you. I want to do it more in fact,” Draco said. Harry didn’t respond. He just turned his back to Draco and shredded his clothes and bent down to his trunk in search of his pajamas. Draco saved him the dignity of any embarrassing statements, instead just watching leeringly, smirking at Harry’s small rounded ass, and a trail of fine dark hair that led to a peak of the head of Harry’s soft cock. He couldn’t wait to see Harry fully naked, but allowed the boy his peace as Harry changed.

Pajama-clad, Harry turned around and hugged Draco one last time. “Be safe, alright? And if he tries anything, _anything_ , make sure to roast him again,” Harry said. Draco snickered at Harry’s violence and kissed him fully.

“I will be fine Harry. Sleep my pet, you’ll need your strength for tomorrow.”

“And what’s tomorrow?” Harry asked.

Draco smirked and winked. “That’s for you to decide pet. Good night.”

They’ve kissed again and Harry watched as Draco left. Alone, Harry got into bed and drew the curtains close. There was a small slit he could still see through, a slit he uses to reach for the nightstand next to his bed, and after twenty minutes of just laying there, the day’s events whirling through his mind, he was startled to hear the door opening again. Keeping silent, Harry watched through the slit as Ron walked into the dormitory… followed by Neville.

They were close, Ron whispering to the smaller, cubby Gryffindor, his hands slowly sliding on Neville’s body, as if practicing to see how it feels under his hands. They continued to whisper to each other, both faces hot with flush, then Ron started to move closer and closer to Neville before the two of them started kissing. Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from making a noise. The kiss was brief, but when they separated, Ron’s voice was unusually high as he said. “Fine.”

 

When Draco returned to the Slytherin Common Room, it seemed as though everyone heard about what he had done at Malfoy Manor. Eyes were following him, some openly glaring, others looking with subtle disgust as Draco walked in. Blaise was sitting by the fireplace looking nervous, his eyes shifting around. The room was dead silent, not even the fire was making a sound as Draco turned and looked for the one who caused this hostile environment. “Where is he?” he asked simply.

“Here Malfoy,” Nott said simply. He appeared from behind the crowd. His arm was in a sling, but Draco knew that under the bandages were scarred, ruined skin. Despite the obvious pain he was in, Draco could still smell the smoke, Nott kept a calm look on his face as he stared up at the dragon. Behind him was Parkinson, who was looking hurt and smug at the same time.

Draco stared down at the two, purely annoyed. Nott snickered at this. “What’s the matter Malfoy? Mouth was too filled with cock that you can’t say anything?”

Parkinson laughed at that, her laughs high and obnoxious as other Slytherins snickered or shuffled awkwardly.

“Really Nott? Have you really lowered yourself to childish gay jokes? Maybe I should burn that other arm to fix your attitude.”

“Why did you do it?” Nott demanded. “Why did you betray us and try to kill the Dark Lord?”

“Other than because he was a genocidal madman?” Draco asked, ignoring the harsh looks from the more darker-aligned Slytherins. “He thought he could control me. _Me!_ I will not allow that man to try to control me or threaten my mate.”

“I am your mate!” Parkinson yelled. “My father promised me the Dark Lord will make you see the straight again!”

Draco glared at her. “Will you just shut up you idiotic female. My mate is Harry Potter. Not you Parkinson, never you. And thank God for that.”

Parkinson took a step back, shocked. She gained her composer quickly and sneered, “So you’ll rather suck a guy’s cock like a whore?”

“Better than touching you,” Draco said. “I’m getting bored of this. Move out of the way Nott, I’m tired.”

Draco moved to walk past them, but Nott stood his ground, taking out his wand and aiming it at Draco. Draco openly laughed and smirked at Nott. “Did you forget what I am you stupid boy?” he growled. Steam started to show from his feet as licks of blue flame appeared in the air. The entire Slytherin Common room took a step back. Draco smirked and looked down at Nott. “What? Forgot you were going against a Drogo?” Draco laughed deeply and grabbed Nott’s bandaged arm. Nott tried to pull away but Draco held strong, the smell of smoke and burnt skin arising from where he was holding, smoke escaping his grip. Nott squinted his eyes closed, biting his inner cheek hard as Draco just stood there and continued to hold onto the sling and bandage, tiny fires starting to burn them away. Then, all at once, the bandages burned away revealing Nott’s blacken, scarred arm. Draco smirked and pulled the arm into the air, addressing the rest of Slytherin.

“This is what happens when you try to mess with Harry Potter,” he declared to the room. “The boy is mine. You try and go after him, I promise you you’ll get a fate worse than Nott’s.” And with that, Draco left the room.

Blaise stayed, however, and listened as the Slytherins whispered, a small group crowding around Nott to support him. There were mutters of “Damn dragon” and “faggot.” Blaise sighed and shook his head as he continued his homework. He hoped his mates were doing better than this cold common room.

The new term started next morning with a pleasant surprise for the sixth years: a large sign had been pinned to the common room notice boards overnight.

**APPARITION LESSONS**

**If you are seventeen years of age, or will turn seventeen on or before the 31 st August next, you are eligible for a twelve-week course of Apparition Lessons from a Ministry of Magic Apparition instructor. Please sign below if you would like to participate. Cost: 12 Galleons.**

“What would be the point of this?” Draco asked. “I mean, I can fly.”

“True,” Blaise nodded. “But it is always nice to know how to legally apparate. Besides, it costs nothing.”

“True,” Draco nodded. The two were at the head of the crowd that surrounded the boards. The rest of the Slytherins seemed to silent themselves around Draco and Blaise, looking fearfully or apologetically while others just glared at them. Draco sensed that a division was coming, and was growing annoyed at Nott who’s arm was tightly bandaged by Parkinson. It seemed that after last night, those two sorry sods decided to be sorry together.

Ehh, who cares?

Draco didn’t.

“Well, our mates will be there anyway,” Blaise said.

“Of course they are, and of course I will be situated next to Harry,” Draco said. “Last night I’ve seen my mate naked, at least from the back, so now I’ll take any opportunity to see it again, even if it is clothed.”

“Oh?” Blaise smirked. “And how is it?” Blaise gave Draco a playful elbow to the side.

“Like I’ll tell you,” Draco said. “Anyway, let’s go down to the Great Hall. I’m hungry, and would rather not be surrounded by traitors who are debating to try and harm us.”

Blaise chuckled and walked with Draco. During their walk, Draco filled Blaise in on his Christmas break and what happened in Dumbledore’s office. When he was done talking, they were in the Great Hall and already halfway done with breakfast.

“So how are you and Harry going to get that memory?” Blaise asked.

“I do not know,” Draco said. “Slughorn has a great deal of respect for Harry, though I am positive that that respect pales in comparison to his grip on that memory.” Both boys looked over to the Gryffindor Table to see Harry eating. He was sitting between Ron and Hermione, and they both noticed Ron’s quick glances at Neville, who gave him a shy smile.

“Seems like your boys are doing good,” Draco said.

“Yup,” Blaise smirked. “Makes me a happy Daddy.”

Draco looked at him, a small look of discomfort on his face. “Zabini. Please never say that again. Your kinks are your business, but I want none of it.”

Blaise laughed hard. He smiled at Draco and said, “Whatever. …Anyway, those things You-Know-Who was looking for, Horcruxes… they sound familiar.”

“I know,” Draco nodded. “But for the life of me, I cannot find out why.”

They looked at the Gryffindor table again. “You know Granger’s going to find out,” Blaise said.

“Oh I know, see? Harry’s probably telling them now,” Draco said, pointing to Harry. Harry was indeed talking with both Ron and Hermione. Hermione looking thoughtful before talking. The two Slytherins spent the rest of the breakfast hour watching their mates over at the Gryffindor table, inserting small talk every now and then as they both worried about their own problems. When Draco reconnected with Harry before Potions, he asked Harry, “So, any ideas on getting it?”

“Ron thinks I should just ask him after class, I mean he practically loves me right? Best student since my mum he rants,” Harry said. “I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

“Okay,” Draco nodded. “Might as well, I guess.”

Harry nodded and smiled as they walked in together. Draco gave Harry a quick peck on the cheek as they went their separate way, Harry moving to sit with Ron, Hermione, and Ernie.

Slughorn appeared in front of them and went on a lecture about Golpalott’s Third Law, a concept that he did not understand in the bit. When Slughorn was done, leaving the whole room except Hermione, confused, he said, “I want each of you to come and take one of these phials from my desk. You are to create an antidote for the poison within it before the end of the lesson. Good luck, and don’t forget your protective gloves!”

Hermione had left her stool and was halfway toward Slughorn’s desk before the rest of the class had realized it was time to move, and by the time Harry, Ron, and Ernie returned to the table, she had already tipped the contents of her phial into her cauldron and was kindling a fire underneath it.

“It’s a shame that the Prince won’t be able to help you much with this, Harry,” she said brightly as she straightened up. “You have to understand the principle involved this time. No shortcuts or cheats!”

Annoyed, Harry uncorked the poison he had taken, tipped it into his cauldron, and lit a fire underneath it. He did not have the faintest idea what he was supposed to do next. He glanced around. Draco was busy working on his poison, his hair already a mess from the fumes.

Annoyed at Hermione’s smugness, Harry stared at the cauldron. Hermione was now waving her wand enthusiastically over her cauldron. Unfortunately, they could not copy the spell she was doing because she was now so good at nonverbal incantations that she did not need to say the words aloud. Ernie, however, was muttering, “ _Specialis Revelio_!”

Harry and Ron copied Ernie. Five minutes later, Harry tried to remember something as stared annoyingly at Hermione’s smug expression as she decanted the mysteriously separated ingredients of her poison into ten different crystal phials. She had loathed being outperformed in every Potions class.

It took Harry ten more minutes to remember exactly what it was he was thinking about. Bezoar! A stone taken from the stomach of a goat, which will protect from most poisons. Remembering his very first potions class, Harry had to admit that Snape was useful for something as he dashed towards the store cupboard and rummaged within it, pushing aside unicorn horns and tangles of dried herbs until he found, at the very back, a small cardboard box on which had been scribbled the word BEZOARS.

He opened the box, grabbed a stone, and made it back to his stool just as Slughorn yelled “Time’s …UP! Well, let’s see how you’ve done! Blaise… what have you got for me?”

Slowly, Slughorn moved around the room, examining the various antidotes. Nobody had finished their task, although Hermione was trying to cram a few more ingredients into her bottle before Slughorn reached her.

Their table was last, and when Slughorn reached Harry, he asked “What have you got to show me?”

Harry held out his hand, the bezoar sitting on his palm. Slughorn looked down at it for a full ten seconds. Harry wondered, for a moment, whether he was going to shout at him. Then he threw back his head and roared with laughter.

“You’ve got nerve, boy!”he boomed, taking the bezoar and holding it up so that the class could see it. “Oh, you’re like your mother. …Well, I can’t fault you. …A bezoar would certainly act as an antidote to all of these potions!”

Hermione glared at him, her face was sweaty and nose soot-covered. “And you thought of that all by yourself?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“That’s the individual spirit of a real potion-maker!” Slughorn said happily before Harry could reply. He wasn’t wrong, Harry did thought of it himself. “Just like his mother, she had the same intuitive grasp of potion-making, it’s undoubtedly from Lily he gets it. …Yes, Harry, yes, if you’ve got a bezoar to hand, of course that would do the trick …although as they don’t work on everything, and are pretty rare, it’s still worth knowing how to mix antidotes. …”

The only person in the room looking more annoyed than Hermione was Draco, who had spilled something that looked like cat-sick over himself. Harry bit his lip, trying not to snicker at his boyfriend’s misfortune as Slughorn dismissed the class, giving Harry ten points for “extra cheek!”

“Sir,” Harry said, reminding himself irresistibly of Voldemort as everyone left. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask away, then, my dear boy, ask away…”

“Sir, I wondered what you know about Horcruxes?”

Slughorn froze. His rounded face seemed to sink in upon itself. He licked his lips and said hoarsely, “What did you say?”

“I asked whether you know anything about Horcruxes, sir. You see—“

“Dumbledore put you up to this,” Slughorn whispered. His voice had changed completely. It was not genial anymore, but shocked, terrified. He fumbled in his breast pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, mopping his sweating brow. “Dumbledore shown you that—that memory. Well? Hasn’t he?”

“Yes,” Harry said, deciding on the spot that it was best not to lie.

“Yes, of course,” Slughorn said quietly, still dabbing at his white face. “Of course…well, if you’ve seen the memory, Harry, you’ll know that I don’t know anything—anything”—he repeated the word forcefully—“about Horcruxes.”

He seized his dragon-skin briefcase, stuffed his handkerchief back into his pocket, and marched to the dungeon door.

“Sir,” Harry said desperately, “I just thought there might be a bit more to the memory—“

“Did you?” Slughorn said. “Then you were wrong, weren’t you? WRONG!”

He bellowed the last word and, before Harry could say another word, slammed the dungeon door behind him.

When Harry told Draco what happened after classes, Draco frowned. “Well, while we find a different way, there is something I need to talk with you about Harry.”

“What is it Draco?”

“Meet me in the dungeons in about an hour, okay? There is an abandoned classroom at the end of the second corridor on the left-hand side of the stairs. I will be waiting there. And bring the Prince’s book.” Draco commanded.

Harry nodded and kissed Draco’s cheek goodbye.

 

Draco stood in front of Harry, wearing tight leather pants (a gift from Blaise) and a stern expression on his face. “Harry, you cannot continue relying on that book for Potions,” he said as Harry closed the door behind him. The dungeon around them were light dimly, a single cauldron sitting in the middle of the room, already bubbling. Draco strode towards Harry and took his hand. “We’re going to move faster mate. For the next hour I’m going to talk to you as your dominant. Understand?”

“Yes,” Harry said, his cheeks flaring. Draco smirked and stood in front of Harry, his enormous bulge pointing at his submissive.

“Good,” Draco smirked. He moved towards the cauldron and tapped it with his wand. “You are going to learn Harry. Or else you will be punished.”

“P-Punished?” Harry stuttered.

“Yes,” Draco said. “You are relying on that accursed book too much I think. Even though you did not use it in today’s class, you have constantly used it in every other class, and seemed to learned nothing from it. So now, you will learn or else.”

“I’ll be punished…” Harry said. Draco nodded. “And how will you punish me Draco?” Harry smirked, crossing his arms.

“Easy pet. I’ll simply spank you.”

“Spank!” Harry said, his voice squeaking.

“Yes Harry, spank. I am serious about you learning to not rely on that book,” Draco said simply. “Speaking of, did you bring it?”

“Yeah, I did,” Harry said, pulling out his copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_. Draco took it from Harry and flipped through it. Harry was silent, waiting surprisingly patiently as Draco paced in front of him, looking thoroughly at each page.

“There are good things in here,” Draco muttered. “But that does not mean you need to rely on this fully. You have skill Harry, I know you do. And I want you to show me that skill right here and right now. Look, here is a very easy potion to make. A Shrinking Solution. It causes the drinker to shrink to a younger form. … We could have some kinky fun with this one, don’t you think so Harry?” Draco gave Harry a lewd smirk before looking down at the book again. “Ugh, he had written so much. … Can’t see the page number. Ah, ninety six.”

Draco moved towards the cauldron and placed Harry’s copy of the textbook on the stone table next to it. He then picked up his copy of _Advanced-Potion Making_ and opened to page ninety six. “Here, make this without using the Prince’s help Harry,” Draco said. “I’ll make sure you are rightly rewarded.” Draco smirked and grabbed his bulge. Harry gulped and licked his lips.

Draco smirked and gave Harry his copy of the textbook. “If you want it Harry, you have to work for it. Come on, show your dragon how good you are.”

Harry nodded, moaning slightly as he looked down at the textbook. Draco situated himself on an old teacher’s desk, taking out his wand and casting the dust away. “Begin Harry,” he commanded.

Moving with lewd motivation and something he couldn’t explain, Harry moved towards the stone table next to the cauldron to see a bunch of ingredients sitting waiting to be used, as well as all the tools Harry will need. He looked up to see Draco reading his copy of the textbook and winced as he felt a slight pain on his butt. “Come on Harry, make the potion,” Draco drawled, still reading the book.

“I thought you were kidding about the spanking,” Harry muttered.

“Of course I wasn’t. I had Blaise teach me that spell earlier this day,” Draco said. “Come on. If I need to do it four more times, then you’ll get my hand next.”

That shocked Harry into gear. He loved his boyfriend, even if he didn’t tell Draco yet, but he didn’t want to be spanked by his dragon! He looked down at the page and read the instructions. _“Step one: Juice two Shrivelfigs and add their ruby blood to your cauldron.”_

Harry reached for the shrivelfigs and started to juice them, their ruby blood gushing onto his fingers and into the bubbling cauldron. He placed the juiced shrivelfigs to the side and grabbed the silver ladle, and began to _“Stir slowly”_ just as the instructions state. When the potion started to turn into a dull red color like the book described, Harry turned the fire under the cauldron down so it could gently heat. While that happened, he turned his attention back to the instructions. _“Chop four daisy roots more finely and add to cauldron.”_ He was confused for a bit, but decided to just chop the daisy roots as finely as he could. He grabbed a nearby knife and began chopping, the sound of his knife and the cauldron filling the air. He was so busy chopping the roots that after one particularly loud burst from the cauldron, Harry again felt the stinging hit on his butt. “Ow!” he cried out.

“The cauldron! Turn the heat down quick!” Draco warned. Harry turned to see the potion was in danger of over boiling and rushed to fix the problem. “You have to be conscious of your entire surrounds. Understand Harry?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry muttered a bit sarcastically as he added the chopped daisy roots to the cauldron.

He then looked at Draco’s textbook again and added five hairy caterpillars and shook the wormwood as he kept an eye on the cauldron. “Good job, Harry,” Draco said as he watched his mate. Harry smiled from the praise and added the wormwood before stirring vigorously just as the textbook instructs.

“You’re going to have to stir that for five minutes Harry, keep track of time,” Draco said. “You’re looking for the potion to turn into a greenish color. What color is it now?”

“Red.”

“Keep stirring then,” Draco said.

Harry obeyed and continued to stir, trying his best to keep track of time in his head as he watched the swirling water in front of him. It was relaxing in some way, watching the endless vortex of water. Letting his worries and stress starting to melt away as he thought of Draco. Why was he doing this? Why was he allowing Draco to spank him? To teach him? Was it all from his love for the dragon? His love for his… dominant? Can Harry accept his submissiveness to Draco? Harry wondered what exactly submitting to Draco would mean as he continued to stare at the swirling water, his arm moving automatically. It might be nice, being Draco’s. Harry might like it. He loved his relationship with the blond now, and wants to move forward. And Draco is proposing them moving forward. All he had to do was listen and learn. …Yeah, Harry thought he could do that. He could listen to Draco and learn to be his submissive mate. The more Harry thought of it, the tighter his pants seemed to have gotten. It was then he realized that it has been more than months since he had masterbated. Which was weird as Harry remembered just last year he remembered masterbating every night. But now… was it all because Draco told him not to?

His senses were smacked back into him with another stinging hex. “That’s three Harry. What were you thinking of?” Draco smirked.

Harry blushed and looked at his cauldron just as it turned green. He stopped stirring immediately and turned to the textbook. It told him to juice four leeches and add them. A simple task and after that he began stirring slowly and cautiously. After it changed color again, he added a shaken rat spleen and a splash of cowbane and started to stir as he drastically raised the temperature. When the potion was boiling furiously, Harry took his wand and had to read the instructions twice before waving his wand over it in a precise figure.

The bubbling stopped immediately, the fire went out by itself, and Harry was left with an electric-green potion sitting peacefully in the cauldron. “I’m done Do—Draco,” Harry said.

Draco got off of the teacher’s desk and walked calmly towards Harry, his growing bulge bouncing with every step. “Alright pet, let’s see how’ve you done,” Draco said. He looked down at the cauldron and smiled. “It’s the right color,” he noted. “Let’s see how it test, shall we?” He moved towards the desk and pulled out a fat tabby cat.

“Where did you find that?” Harry asked curious.

“It’s a seventh year’s,” Draco said. “He’s roughly ten years old and does nothing. If your potion works, he’ll be a kitten again. For a long while.”

Harry nodded and watched as Draco took the ladle and skillfully filled a phial with the potion. With the phial, he gently brought it to the cat’s mouth, and allowed the cat to lick at it before tipping it over and into the cat’s throat. The effect was immediate as the cat began to shrink, it’s meows becoming higher and more often as a tabby kitten now laid in Draco’s arms. Draco beamed and said prideful, “Good job Harry! I’m so proud of you.”

Harry smiled at the praise.

Draco let the kitten jump from his arms and run out of the dungeon. “It knows the way back,” Draco said. He pointed his wand at the doors and locked them. He smirked at Harry and again sat by the teacher’s desk. “Now, I think it’s time for your reward. Don’t you Harry?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, licking his lips nervously. Draco smiled at that and patted his lap. “Sit first, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Harry moved and sat on Draco’s lap. He felt the bulge underneath him but gave Draco his entire focus as Draco pulled Harry closer. “Before we do this, I want you to know something,” Draco said.

“What is it?”

“I love you Harry. I’ve always have love you, long before this inheritance happened. It just gave me the courage to say what I’ve been meaning to say,” Draco confessed.

Harry smiled and relaxed into Draco. “I love you too.”

Draco smiled and gently slapped Harry’s butt. “Then, since we both love each other, we need to learn each other’s body right?”

“Y-Yeah…” Harry said, biting his lip as Draco started moving his slowly hardening cock against Harry.

“So, I’ve been promising it all night, but I need to hear you say it Harry. What do you want?”

“I want your cock,” Harry said confidently. “I want to suck your cock, my dominant.”

“Good submissive,” Draco smirked. “Go on. Suck my cock.”

Harry slid off of Draco’s lap and onto his knees. Draco reach down to his leather pants and slowly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, opening it for his cock to escape, the meat slapping Harry’s cheek lightly. Harry was assaulted with a smell of musk and smiled as he buried his head against Draco’s crotch, blond pubes brushing against his nose as he did so. Harry moved back and looked at Draco’s cock, gasping at it’s immense size. Soft, it was nearly the width of Harry’s wrist and six inches long. “It’ll only get bigger Harry. Suck,” Draco commanded with a cocky smirk.

Harry nodded and held the cock in one hand. He experimentally gave it a lick, feeling the hot muscle on his tongue as he went up and down the ever growing dick. He continued to lick Draco’s cock, changing directions and making sure to get as much as he could as he moaned at the heavy taste. When he finished, he looked to see that the cock have grown another three inches and stood straight up, it’s plump pink head oozing with pre-cum and aimed straight at Harry.

“We both know that you’re not going to do the whole thing Harry,” Draco said soothingly. “Trust me, I was surprised when I saw how big I am when fully hard. We’ll work in steps right? Let’s see about just the head.”

Harry nodded and gave Draco’s cock a couple of squeezes, tugging at it as he positioned the head of the cock directly at his mouth. Harry had to open farther than he had ever opened before as he leaned down, the cockhead entering his mouth, the same musky smell invading Harry’s nose again. He had no idea what to do with his tongue as the cockhead pushed it back, he had to quickly place it at the bottom of his mouth or else he choked. He wrapped his lips around the beginning of the shaft and stayed there, his jaw aching as he gotten use to the cockhead in his mouth.

Draco moaned, his hands tangled in Harry’s hair. “Are you okay?” Draco asked. Harry just nodded. “Okay, watch the teeth and try moving as far down as you can.”

Harry nodded again and moved down, Draco’s cock moving further and further into his mouth. He had reach three inches in before tears welled in his eyes and he began gagging. Harry didn’t know he had a horrible gag-reflex like that. But Draco told him that they’ll take steps, and he wasn’t enthusiastic about taking the whole cock in his throat tonight. He was just more than happy with the sudden leap their relationship had had.

Finding Harry’s limit, both he and Draco began to move in sync, Draco’s hot, heavy, huge cock moving the three inches into and out of Harry’s mouth. His jaw had gotten used to the dull ache and Harry found himself moaning as he jerked the remaining six inches with his hand. With his other hand, he fumbled with his own pants and began jerking his own cock off, trying his best to match the increasing tempo. Harry moved to keep the pace fast, feeling both his release and Draco’s close.

“Yeah Harry, I’m coming,” Draco growled, letting out an animalistic roar as he came in Harry’s mouth, the hot cum shooting down his throat and quickly filling his mouth. Harry swallowed quickly as he came as well, his cum staining the dungeon floor and his hand with ropes and ropes of cum. Draco’s cum started to dribble out of Harry’s mouth as he pulled his softening cock out. Harry licked his bruised lips and swallowed every bit of Draco’s cum. Draco grabbed Harry’s cum-covered hand and licked it clean, smiling at him.

“Well… that was a fast way to prove our love for each other,” Draco chuckled.

“Uh-huh,” Harry nodded as Draco pulled him up. “Did you just bring me here just so I could blow you?”

“No Harry,” Draco chuckled. “I really do want you to improve in Potions by yourself. This was just an added bonus.”

“Well… it’s a fun bonus,” Harry chuckled. Draco nodded in agreement and kissed Harry’s bruised, plump lips. “I love you,” he said.

“Love you too,” Harry repeated, pulling his Draco down for another kiss.


	14. Apparition and Luck Potions

Chapter 14

Apparition and Luck Potions

“Hey Draco, I have a question,” Harry said. It was weeks since he first asked Slughorn about the lesson, January turned into February, and in-between the time both he and Draco were very busy with their own personal potions lesson. They were both in the library, working on essays for Snape.

“Yeah, what is it?” Draco asked.

“Remember when we had our first potions lesson? And my reward was that I gave you a blowjob?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, I do,” Draco smirked. “Why? Wanna do it again?”

“N-No,” Harry blushed. “I’m just thinking… it’s supposed to be my reward right? Then why didn’t you give me a blowjob?”

“Huh?” Draco asked, looking up from his essay. “Do you want me to give you one now?”

“No, I’m not in the mood for one now,” Harry pouted. “It’s just that it’s supposed to be my reward right? So why did I give you the blowjob?”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I loved it, but that’s not the point,” Harry said. “It’s just that well, anytime we seem to do anything I’m the one doing things to you.”

“Oh… really?” Draco asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I’m not complaining or anything, but it would be nice if we’re on the same plane when it comes to stuff like that, you know? I know I’m your submissive, and you’re my dominant, and believe me I am happy with those roles, but honestly Draco that doesn’t mean I’m a girl! I have needs too you know.”

“Sorry Harry,” Draco said, sounding honestly sorry. “I promise not to treat you like a girl from now on,” he finished snickering.

Harry huffed and shook his head. “Anyway, Draco, I was wondering… do you have any idea how we’re going to get the memory from Slughorn?”

“We can coerce it out of him,” Draco suggested. “But I think it would be better if he gives it willingly, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Harry nodded. He bit his lip and looked around. “There has to be something we can do. I mean, we know that he’s not going to give it willingly, so I think it’ll be hard to talk it out of him.”

“What we need… is to catch him at the perfect mood,” Draco said. “Or give him something that we can trade for the memory.”

“Yeah… yeah that could work!” Harry smiled. “We’ll wait for him to be in a perfect mood, and then get it!” He looked at his watch and made a weird yelping noise. “The Apparition lessons start in an hour!” he said.

“What?” Draco demanded. He looked at Harry’s wrist and made a similar noise. “Well, I guess this is the last time we’ll use homework as an excuse to meet up on Saturday mornings.”

Harry chuckled and nodded smiling. The two spent their time packing their bags, then stood up. Draco kissed Harry deeply before wrapping his arm around Harry’s waist, his hand lightly patting Harry’s butt as the Gryffindor leaned against his dominant.

The Apparition lessons took place in the Great Hall. When Harry and Draco arrived in the Hall, they found that the tables had disappeared. Rain lashed against the high windows and the enchanted ceiling swirled darkly about them as they assembled in front of Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout, and a small wizard whom Harry took to be the Apparition instructor from the Ministry. He was oddly colorless, with transparent eyelashes, wispy hair, and an insubstantial air, as though a single gust of wind might blow him away. Harry wondered whether constant disappearance and reappearance had somehow diminished his substance, or whether this frail build was ideal for anyone wishing to vanish.

“Good morning,” the Ministry wizard said when all the students had arrived and the Heads of Houses called for quiet. “My name is Wilkie Twycross and I shall be your Ministry Apparition instructor for the next twelve weeks. I hope to be able to prepare you for your Apparition Tests in this time many of you may be ready to take your tests.

“As you may known, it is usually impossible to Apparate or Disapparate within Hogwarts. The headmaster has lifted this enchantment, purely within the Great Hall, for one hour, so as to enable you to practice…”

“Apparition is mainly pointless,” Draco whispered in Harry’s ear. “If we need to get anywhere, you can simply ride on my back and we’ll fly there.”

“Right, and there will be countless reports of a boy riding a dragon,” Harry whispered back. “Just listen to him, okay? We’ll need this.”

Fine, I just think my way it better,” Draco shrugged, both boys returning their attention back to the Ministry official.

“…I would like each of you to place yourselves now so that you have a clear five feet of space in front of you.”

There was a great scrambling and jostling as people separated, banged into each other, and ordered others out of their space. Harry and Draco stayed next to each other as this happened.

“Thank you,” Twycross said. “Now then…”

He waved his wand. Old-fashioned wooden hoops instantly appeared on the floor in front of every student.

“The important things to remember when Apparating are the three D’s!” Twycross said. “Destination, Determination, Deliberation!

“Step one; Fix your mind firmly upon the desired destination. In this case, the interior of your hoop. Kindly concentrate upon that destination now.”

Everybody looked around furtively to check that everyone else was staring into their hoop, then hastily did as they were told. Harry gazed at the circular patch of dusty floor enclosed by his hoop and tried hard to think of nothing else (A very difficult task with his boyfriend standing next to him, radiating a very faint, but very strong, heat and delectable smell).

“Step two,” Twycross said, “focus your determination to occupy the visualized space! Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body!

“Step three, and only when I give the command… Turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation! On my command now…one—“

Harry glanced around again; lots of people were looking positively alarmed at being asked to Apparate so quickly.

“—two—“

Harry tried to fix his thoughts on his hoop again; he had already forgotten what the three D’s stood for.

“—THREE!”

Harry spun on the spot, lost balance, and nearly fell over. He was not the only one. The whole Hall was suddenly full of staggering people; Neville was flat on his back; Ernie Macmillan, on the other hand, had done a kind of pirouetting leap into his hoop and looked momentarily thrilled, until he caught sight of Dean Thomas roaring with laughter at him. Blaise and Ron almost fell on top of each other (they were next to Neville).

“Never mind, never mind,” Twycross said dryly, who did not seemed to have expected anything better. “Adjust your hoops, please, and back to your original positions. …”

The second attempt was no better than the first. The third was just as bad. The fourth had Susan Bone standing in the hoop, missing her left leg and screeching in pain. The Heads of Houses converged on her; there was a great bang and a puff of purple smoke, which cleared to reveal Susan sobbing, reunited with her leg but looking horrified.

“Splinching, or the separation of random body parts,” Wilkie Twycross said dispassionately, “occurs when the mind is insufficiently determined. You must concentrate continuously upon your destination, and move, without haste, but with deliberation. … thus.”

As he performed an apparition, Draco leaned towards Harry and whispered, “I swear if he tells us about the three D’s again, I’ll show him my three D’s.”

“What is it? Draco’s Dunderhead of a Dragon?” Harry whispered back.

“Watch it,” Draco warned, sending a shiver down Harry’s back.

An hour past and still nothing happened, poor Susan Bone’s Splinching being the most interesting thing that had happened. Twycross left, telling the students to remember the three D’s, which caused Draco to groan annoyingly.

“How did you do?” Ron asked, hurrying towards Harry and Draco. “I think I felt something the last time I tried—a kind of tingling in my feet.”

“Aren’t you sure the tingling wasn’t in your pants Weasley?” Draco sneered, his eyes falling on Blaise and he and Neville came over. “Honestly the way you were acting Zabini, it was so undignified for a Slytherin.”

“He kept talking about D’s, how else am I supposed to act?” Blaise smirked. Ron gave a soft snicker while Neville’s face was as red as Ron’s hair.

Harry looked at the three and said, “So um… I take it everything’s working out fine with your guys?”

“Yeah…” Ron said, his eyes looking downward. “It’s hard but, I’m getting used to it. Neville’s got a lot to learn though.”

“Yeah, but we’ll teach him, won’t we Ron?” Blaise smirked.

“Yeah, yeah we will,” Ron nodded. “That reminds me, Blaise, I’ve talked with Fred and George and they said it should be ready in a couple of months.”

“That’s good,” Blaise smiled, “we gave them a very complicated order after all. Neville’s going to love it.”

“W-Why won’t you tell me what it is?” Neville stuttered, his face still beet red.

“Cause it’ll ruin the surprise, my precious baby,” Blaise said. Neville looked at Ron, who just shook his head and said, “It’s all Blaise’s idea. And we’re not supposed to argue with our Incubus, right Blaise?”

“Yes Ron,” Blaise nodded. “You know Neville, you’re lucky you have an older mate like Ron to help you out here. You’ll never catch up if it’s just us.”

“I think we should go,” Harry whispered in Draco’s ear. The dragon just nodded and the two left the triad alone. They were both quiet, which surprised Harry as he thought Draco would be talkative about their first Apparition lesson. He looked at his boyfriend only to see the Slytherin lost in thought. “Draco?” he asked.

“Lucky…” Draco muttered. “Lucky… ‘you’re lucky…’” He gave a huge sigh and looked at Harry. “Lucky.” He said.

“What?”

“We are never going to get the memory Harry,” Draco said. “Not through the normal way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if we continue trying to get Slughorn’s memory though any convenient means, it will not work. Slughorn will either run away, flat out refuse us, or never speak to us ever again. What we need is luck.” Draco said.

“And how are we supposed to get this luck?” Harry asked. “Are we just going to—ohh!”

“Now you get it,” Draco smiled. “We don’t need the whole day; just an hour or two will do, and after all you’ve done for it—don’t you think it’s a good use?”

Harry beamed at Draco and grabbed his hand, his grip tight as he pulled the Drogo along. “Come on! We’ll grab the bottle from my trunk right now, each take a sip, and go get that memory!”

Their footsteps echoed throughout the Grand Staircase as both boys ran up towards the seventh floor. When they’ve reached the top of the staircase, Harry pulled Draco to the right and they both made their way down the corridor, passing several students, and towards the Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady stood guard in her portrait, talking with her friend Violet, and in his excitement to get the Luck Potion, Harry yelled out the password, causing the Fat Lady and Violet to jump in fright.

“Honestly!” they both huffed as the portrait swung open. Harry and Draco rushed into the Common Room, ignoring the surprised Gryffindors and some outraged ones at the thought of a Slytherin in their Common Room (even though this is his second time being in it and Harry’s dorm room for that matter).

When they’ve reached Harry’s bed, Draco sat on it as Harry started rummaging through his trunk, looking for the Luck Potion. “I need to get you some better clothes, love,” Draco muttered. “Smaller, more form fitting… matching outfits maybe?” Draco smirked.

“Now’s not the time—oh where is it?” Harry groaned as he pulled out robes, pants, shirts, books, extra ink bottles, quills and parchment paper. “Aha!” Harry said as he pulled out a pair of rolled up socks. Draco was confused until Harry pulled out the tiny, gleaming bottle; it’s seal still intact and golden liquid splashing happily.

“A sock? I don’t know if I should lecture you on proper potion storage, or laugh at your ingenious,” Draco smirked.

Harry just gave him a look before breaking the seal. He raised the bottle and took a carefully measured gulp. He handed it to Draco, who took the same amount. When it was returned, there was still a little bit of potion left. Slowly, but surely, an exhilarating sense of infinite opportunity stole through Harry; he felt as though he could have done anything, anything at all …and getting the memory from Slughorn seemed suddenly not only possible, but positively easy.

“Feeling excellent?” Harry asked Draco.

“Yes I do,” Draco said, having a similar smile like Harry’s. “Come on, let’s go to the Forbidden Forest.”

“Alright!”

Harry returned everything back quickly and joined Draco on his way out of the sixth year boys dormitory and into the Gryffindor Common room. Harry gave a laugh as Draco swept him from his feet and carried Harry out of the room, showing a sense of ownership to the gawking Gryffindors.

“Harry! There you are, hi Draco, I was wondering where I was going to find you,” Hermione said, she was holding a sealed scroll. “Dumbledore gave this to me and—“

“Thanks Hermione, but right now we’re going to the Forbidden Forest,” Harry said, taking the scroll from Hermione one he was on his feet again.

“But… why?” Hermione asked, confused.

“We drank the Felix Felicis and now we are going to the Forbidden Forest to get Slughorn’s memory,” Draco said.

“Okay… well good luck. Tell Ron to come back to the common room if you see him? I promised to look over his Transfiguration essay,” Hermione said.

“Will do,” Harry nodded as Hermione climbed into the portrait hole. He smiled at Draco and said, “Come on!”

The two boys took their time walking through the corridors and down the Grand Staircase, holding each other’s hand as they strolled. It was night time as they reached the entrance hall. Harry even hummed a little tune as they’ve walked, the elation in both boys simply rising with each step they took. Once outside, they’ve started to make a beeline towards the Forbidden Forest before stopping and deciding that it would be very pleasant to pass the vegetable patch on their walk to the Forbidden Forest. “This way is where I’ve marked my territory months ago,” Draco said.

“You’re territory?” Harry asked.

“Yes. I have the Slytherin Dungeons as a human, and my Drogo wanted something for himself. This was before we began dating, when I was an annoying prick,” Draco explained.

“Ohh… so it’s lonely,” Harry suggested, grinning at his boyfriend.

“Oh very. A Drogo’s scent can last for years,” Draco nodded. “Didn’t you know that?”

“No. Why? Should I smell you from everything you touched?” Harry smirked.

“Well, if you aren’t, we need to fix this immediately,” Draco said. “A dragon knows one way to make sure his mate reeks of his scent.”

Harry laughed and hanged onto Draco. They were both pleased, though not altogether surprised to find Professor Slughorn in conversation with Professor Sprout. Harry and Draco lurked behind a low stone wall, feeling at peace with the world and listened to their conversation.

“I do thank you for taking the time, Pomona,” Slughorn said courteously, “most authorities agree that they are at their most efficacious if picked at dusk.”

“Oh, I quite agree,” Professor Sprout said warmly. “That enough for you?”

“Plenty, plenty,” Slughorn said, carrying an armful of leafy plants. “This should allow for a few leaves for each of my third years, and some to spare if anybody over-stews them. …Well, good evening to you, and many thanks again!”

Professor Sprout headed off into the gathering darkness in the direction of her greenhouses, and Slughorn directed his steps to the spot where the boys stood.

Harry jumped out of his hiding place and said, “Good evening, Professor.”

“Merlin’s beard, Harry, you made me jump,” Slughorn said, stopping dead in his tracks nad looking wary as Draco stood as well. “How did you two get out of the castle?”

“I think Filch must’ve forgotten to lock the doors,” Harry said cheerfully, and was delighted to see Slughorn scowl.

“I’ll be reporting the man, he’s more concerned about litter than proper security if you ask me. …But why are you two out here Harry, Draco?”

“Because Professor,” Draco said. “We are going to the Forbidden Forest in order to gain very rare ingredients.”

“Oh?” Slughorn asked, completely curious. “And what sort of rare ingredients lie in the Forbidden Forest?”

“Drogo scales sir,” Harry said. “You know about Drogos right? They’re a very rare Dragon whose scales are very powerful in potions. They’re practically instinct because they’re a creature inheritance, but we know where to find one.”

“Oh really? And tell me Harry, how can you get these scales? I am very interested in experimenting with one of the scales. They can make both the best poisons and best healing potions in the world,” Slughorn said, his smiling showing the endless possibilities he was imagining.

“That is very simple Professor,” Draco said. “I have just to transform. You see, I am the Drogo and Harry, is my mate.”

Harry nodded, a proud, joyous feeling rushing through as Draco called him his mate. Slughorn looked between the two of them, his eyes wide with shock. “Really? A Drogo and it’s mate! Why it’s been ages since a Drogo showed himself. To think of all the things I can do with even one scale! Why, they’re said to be stronger than steel.”

“They are,” Draco nodded. “I can easily shrug off a Killing Curse, or any of the Unforgivable Curses. While they cannot effect me normally, the Killing Curse will simply harm me, causing me pain, while the Cruciatus Curse will simply dull me.”

“It is like impenetrable armor,” Slughorn whispered.

“Armor that works wonders in any potions they’re in,” Harry nodded. “Even a chip off of his scales can strengthen any potion.” He smiled at Draco, knowing that they were having the same idea with the remainder of the Luck Potion. It was as if the information was just pouring into him from somewhere unknown.

“Strengthen any potion…” Slughorn repeated, completely entranced. He looked at the two boys. “I must admit, it is tempting to have one of these scales. Nevertheless you two are still out of bed.”

“True,” Harry nodded. “But still, we are doing it for academic reasons. We want to take one of Draco’s scales and experiment with it in various healing potions.”

“It does not hurt at all to take a scale off, they’ll grow back in a day or so afterwards,” Draco shrugged. “It’s like getting a haircut honestly.”

“We were thinking… if the healing potions work,” Harry said, “then we can find a way to mass produce them so that we don’t suffer as much during our fight against Voldemort.”

“If this is successful, maybe we can make potions that can curse curses, fight off disease, regrow missing limbs… the possibilities are endless,” Draco said.

“Many people are going to get hurt during the war,” Harry said. “We’re just trying our part to make it the least number of people possible.”

“We can’t cure death with my scales, but we can try to make sure not a lot of people die as we figure out a way to defeat the Dark Lord,” Draco said confidently.

“Of course, we need every help possible,” Harry said. “If Draco’s scales can help… then we’ll take as much as we can off of him.”

Slughorn looked at the two boys, awed and shocked. “To think,” he said, “that you two would go to this much for the war… so many possibilities from a Drogo scale, and you use it for healing potions against You-Know-Who.”

“Would you like a scale, Professor?” Harry asked. “You can come with us, watch Draco, the first Drogo in a hundred years, transform, and then we’ll give you a scale.”

“Of course! Any respectable Potions Master would jump at a chance like this! Lead on Mr. Malfoy, Harry, lead on!” Slughorn said, taking their bait perfectly. The boys shared a secret smirk as they walked in front of Professor Slughorn, leading him away from the castle and to the Forbidden Forest.

“We chose the Forbidden Forest because it is private,” Harry said. “We don’t want anyone to see Draco transforming. They might freak out.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure they would,” Slughorn said, practically jumping on his toes at the thought of having a Drogo scale. The three walked silently towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest, their process covered by cold moonlight as a full moon rose high into the air.

“If I was a werewolf, this would be the perfect time of month for mating,” Draco whispered to Harry, causing his mate to blush and snicker.

When they’ve reach a clearing in the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the three stopped. Draco stepped forward and looked around. “Nothing is here,” he said. He walked towards a tree and smiled when he saw the burn mark he made all those months back. “Come here Harry, Professor,” he said.

Harry took a step towards the burnt tree and frowned at it. “Was this your doing, Draco?” he asked.

“Yes,” Draco nodded. “I needed to fly for a bit, so I shifted here, and naturally my Drogo wanted to take over the Forest. I never did, I only did it one day, but this part of the forest is mine for a long time.”

“Ohh,” Harry nodded.

“Remarkable,” Professor Slughorn said. “Fire from a Drogo is said to be able to melt even the strongest material. There is nothing that can resist Drogo’s fire.”

“That is true,” Draco nodded. “Although when I’ve tried to burn the Dark Lord he was able to block it somehow.”

“Do you think it might be because of the Horcruxes?” Harry wondered out loud.

“It might be,” Draco nodded, both boys ignoring Slughorn turning tense. “Anyway, it is time for my scales right? Harry, Professor, step back.”

Harry did, tugging Slughorn lightly as the man was still in a state of tenseness. With enough room, Draco focused and started to shift. Harry turned to see a look of amazement on Slughorn’s face as silver fire started to circle around Draco, his dominant boyfriend turning from human to Dragon. Harry couldn’t help but smirking at Slughorn’s total look of concentration and wonderment at Draco, as if the old man was hypnotized by Draco’s silver fire and morphing body. With a familiar rush of heat the fire disappeared and in place of his strong, muscular boyfriend stood a dominant, confident Drogo that simply stared at Slughorn and Harry.

Slughorn stood, his mouth hung open as he stared at Draco, taking in his silver, armor-like scales, the small wisps of silver fire floating in the air as the Drogo took a step towards the two humans. Slughorn made a yelp and jumped backwards as Harry stood his ground, finding himself again entranced by his mate’s beauty, a strong need to touch him. The dragon chuckled deeply as he stood next to Harry and rubbed his head next to Harry’s. “Keep calm mate, we are not alone here,” Draco growled out.

“He can talk!” Slughorn gasped.

“Yes, I can talk,” Draco said. He turned his head towards Slughorn and expanded his wings, stretching them fully in a show of power. Slughorn’s eyes moved from wing tip to wing tip before falling on Draco’s scales. Each scale formed together like chainmail, forming a sturdy skin for Draco.

“Incredible… how do we take them off?” Slughorn asked, a hand beginning to rummage in his robe pockets looking for a phial.

“Don’t touch them,” Harry warned. “Only I can touch his scales. If anyone else touches them, they’ll burn.” Draco nodded in agreement and nuzzled against his mate again as Harry patted his body to prove his point.

Slughorn’s hands immediately slammed to his sides, his enormous belly jigging from the force. Harry couldn’t help but laugh lightly at the sight and turned to Draco. “Should we tell him the price now?” he whispered.

“Get the scale mate,” Draco said. “Rub your hand along my body until you feel a loose one. I’m sure there’s one somewhere.”

Harry nodded and obeyed. He rubbed his hands gently across Draco’s body, trying to keep it as un-erotic as he could, searching for a loose scale. Draco gave a small groan and huffed silver fire through his snout, which only served to both scare and amaze Slughorn at once. Harry’s hand glided across Draco’s body, the metallic scales smooth under his touch as he moved from Draco’s head towards his tail, making sure to keep it as far away from any sensitive or erogenous zones. It was hard since he didn’t know the Drogo’s erogenous zones, but he made the guess that the farther away from Draco’s sheathed dick, the better.

When he reached Draco’s tail, he finally found a couple of loose scales near the spikes. “Professor, come here, and don’t worry about the spikes. Draco, stay still,” Harry said.

Draco nodded and rested his tail on the ground, Harry crouching as he held it. Up close to Draco’s tail, Harry realized that he could barely wrap his arms around Draco’s tail. Slughorn cautiously made his way towards Harry, making an effort to keep a distance from him and the dragon.

“As soon as it’s off of my body, it is safe for anyone to touch,” Draco said. “It’s heat comes from me.”

Slughorn nodded and said, “Thank you for the warning, Mr. Malfoy. Uh Harry, the scale if you would?”

“Right,” Harry said. He took hold of the scale and pulled. Like Draco said, he seemed to have felt nothing as Harry pulled it out. The individual scale was about the size of Harry’s palm, it’s silvery color shining against the moonlight as it cooled. He stood up and faced Slughorn. “We told you that we were going to use these scales for healing potions,” Harry began, “that we were going to use this for our war effort. But there is something else we need to win the war. A way defeat Voldemort.”

“Here comes the price,” Slughorn frowned. “All this time, and all of this is for the memory.”

“We are willing to give you the scale, we really are,” Harry said. “But we need that memory Professor. The potions could only help so much, we need a way to fully defeat Voldemort, and the only way to do this is to fully understand what Horcruxes are.”

“You said it yourself,” Draco said, whipping his body around to face the professor. “My fire can melt anything. Whatever these Horcruxes are, I know I can destroy them.”

“It is more complicated than that,” Slughorn said. “I am not proud… I am ashamed of what—of what that memory shows. …I think I may have done great damage that day. …”

“You’d cancel out anything you did by giving us that memory,” Harry said. “It would be a very brave and noble thing to do. …You would be helping me defeat the monster that killed my mother.”

Slughorn and Harry stared at each other. There was a long, long silence, but the potion told Harry not to break it, to wait. Then, very slowly, Slughorn put his hand in his pocket and pulled out his wand. He put his other hand inside his cloak and took out a small, empty bottle. Still looking into Harry’s eyes, Slughorn touched the tip of his wand to his temple and withdrew it, so that a long, silver thread of memory came away too, clinging to the wand tip. Longer and longer, the memory stretched until it broke and swung, silvery bright, from the wand. Slughorn lowerd it into the bottle where it coiled, then spread, swirling like gas. He corked the bottle with a trembling hand and then passed it to Harry.

“Thank you very much, Professor,” Harry said.

“You’re a good boy,” Professor Slughorn said, tears trickling down his fat cheeks into his walrus mustache as Harry gave him the scale. “And you have her eyes. …Just don’t think too badly of me once you’ve seen it. …”

Harry nodded and turned to Draco. He climbed on top of Draco’s back and shimmied towards his head. “You said you wanted me to ride you,” he whispered. “Come on, let’s go to Dumbledore.”

Draco stretched out his wings, and with a great beating of his wings, ascended into the air through the trees and into the open night sky. Hogwarts seemed like a flickering castle as the two flew around, Draco gaining more and more altitude as he made his way towards the castle, looking for the Headmaster’s tower. Harry pointed it out, holding the memory tightly in one hand as Draco turned towards the tower, making for the balcony. Harry felt the Felix Felicis starting to worn off inside him, and he gave a shout of fear as Draco dove towards the balcony, silver fire surrounding them. He’s shifting now!?

The balcony was coming closer and closer, but soon Harry could only see silver fire as arms started to wrap themselves around him. Harry found himself hugged against Draco’s body and he looked to see that Draco kept his wings as he held Harry to him, carrying him bridal style as they gently landed on the balcony. With a burst of flames, Draco’s wings disappeared and he smirked at Harry. “What? We needed to get to Dumbledore’s right?” he smirked.

“You sexy jerk,” Harry sneered, kissing Draco’s cheek as he stood up. Draco just chuckled as he placed a protective hand on the small of Harry’s back and the two walked into Dumbledore’s office.

Professor Dumbledore was waiting by his desk. “Ahh, I have been expecting both of you. Though I must admit, most of my visitors tend to use my office door,” he said as the boys walked from the balcony entrance and towards Dumbledore’s desk.

“We have it Professor, the memory,” Harry said, smiling in his excitement as he showed Dumbledore the bottle.

“Excellent Harry,” Dumbledore said. “And you too Draco. I knew you both could do it!”

Dumbledore hurried around his desk, took the bottle with Slughorn’s memory in his uninjured hand, and strode over to the cabinet where he kept the Pensieve.

“And now,” Dumbledore said, placing the stone basin upon his desk and emptying the contents of the bottle into it. “Now, at last we shall see. Harry, Draco, quickly. …”

Harry bowed obediently over the Pensieve and felt his feet leave the office floor. …Once again he fell through darkness and landed in Horace Slughorn’s office many years before.


	15. Horcruxes

Chapter 15

Horcruxes

Again Harry and Draco found themselves in the office of the younger Slughorn. Again Tom Riddle asked “Sir, is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?”

“To, Tom, if I knew I couldn’t tell you,” Slughorn said, wagging his fingers reprovingly at Riddle, though winking at the same time. “I must say, I’d like to know where you get your information boy, more knowledgeable than half the staff, you are.”

Riddle smiled; the other boys laughed and cast him admiring looks. Draco couldn’t help but lean towards Harry and whispered, “You know, if he wasn’t a psychotic, murderous bastard he would have been a very handsome politician.”

“He had used his looks for many things Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore chimed in. “Now please pay attention.”

“—I confidently expect you to rise to Minister of Magic within twenty years. Fifteen, if you keep sending me pineapples, I have excellent contacts at the Ministry.”

Tom Riddle merely smiled as the others laughed again. Harry noticed that he was by no means the eldest of the group of boys, but they all seemed to look at him as their leader.

“I don’t know that politics would suit me, sir,” he said when the laughter had died away. “I don’t have the right kind of background for one thing.”

A couple of the boys around him smirked at each other. Harry was sure they were enjoying a private joke, undoubtedly about what they knew, or suspected, regarding their gang leader’s famous ancestor. “They probably believe him to be a pure-blood related to Slytherin,” Draco muttered.

“Not that it matters, right?” Harry said, glancing at his boyfriend.

“Of course not.”

“Good lizard.”

“…No you’ll go far, Tom, I’ve never been wrong about a student yet,” Slughorn said.

The small golden clock standing upon Slughorn’s desk chimed eleven o’clock behind him and he looked around. “Good gracious, is it that time already? You’d better get going boys, or we’ll all be in trouble. Lestrange, I want your essay by tomorrow or it’s detention. Same goes for you, Avery.”

One by one the boys filed out of the room. Slughorn heaved himself out of his armchair and carried his empty glass over to his desk. A movement behind him made him look around; Riddle was still standing there.

“Look sharp, Tom, you don’t want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect …”

“Sir, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask away, then, m’boy, ask away…”

“Sir, I wondered what you know about… about Horcruxes?”

Slughorn stared at him, his thick fingers abstentmindedly caressing the stem of his wine glass. “Project for Defense Against the Dark Arts, is it?”

“Not exactly, sir,” Riddle said. “I came across the term while reading and I didn’t fully understand it.”

“No…well… you’d be hard-pushed to find a book at Hogwarts that’ll give you details on Horcruxes, Tom, that’s very Dark stuff, very Dark indeed,” Slughorn said. “A Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul.”

“Their soul? I don’t understand how that works,” Riddle said. His voice was carefully controlled, but Harry could sense his excitement.

“Well, you split your soul, you see,” Slughorn said, “and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if one’s body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged. But of course, existence in such a form…”

Slughorn’s face crumpled.

“…few would want it, Tom, very few. Death would be preferable.”

But Riddle’s hunger was now apparent; his expression was greedy, he could no longer hide his longing. “How do you split your soul?”

“Well,” Slughorn said uncomfortably, “you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature.”

“But how do you do it?”

“By an act of evil—the supreme act of evil. By committing murder. Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon creating a Horcrux would use the damage to his advantage; He would encase the torn portion—“

“Encase? But how—?”

“There’s a spell, do not ask me, I don’t know!” Slughorn said, shaking his head like an old elephant bothered by mosquitoes. “Do I look as though I have tried it—do I look like a killer?”

“No, sir, of course not,” Riddle said quickly. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to offend…”

“Not at all, not at all, not offended,” Slughorn said gruffly. “It’s natural to feel some curiosity about these things. …Wizards of a certain caliber have always been drawn to that aspect of magic. …”

“Yes, sir,” Riddle said. “What I don’t understand, thought—just out of curiousity—I mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Can you only split your soul once? Wouldn’t it be better to make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces.—“

“I have enough,” Draco said. He looked at Dumbledore and said, “He’d split his soul into seven pieces.”

“How can you be so certain?” Dumbledore asked as the memory played out.

“Seven is the most powerfully magic number, sir,” Draco said. “The Dark Lord is talking about splitting his soul more than once, so it should be obvious that he would search to split his soul into seven pieces.” As if to agree with Draco, Tom said “I mean, for instance, isn’t seven the most powerfully magical number?”

Harry frowned. “You’re saying that Voldemort had made six Horcruxes?”

“Yes, I believe that is exactly what Voldemort has done,” Dumbledore nodded. “Come boys, we have gathered the information we needed.”

Harry felt a now familiar sensation and landed in Dumbledore’s office. He looked to see Dumbledore sitting down at his desk and felt Draco’s strong hand pulled him into his lap.

“So, we’re to look for the six Horcruxes and destroy them?” Draco asked.

“Four,” Dumbledore said. “Harry has already destroyed of one Horcrux, and I another.”

“Really? How, sir?” Harry asked, confused.

“You handed it to me Harry,” Dumbledore said. “The diary. Proof that Voldemort has split his soul.”

“So what was the second one?” Draco asked.

“This, right here,” Dumbledore said, showing Harry and Draco the destroyed ring. “You may remember this as the ring from Marvolo Gaunt, which Voldemort has acquired after he had killed his muggle relatives. So, that is two Horcruxes down.”

“So how are we supposed to find the rest of the four?” Harry asked. Draco looked as if he was about to say something, but stopped, lost in thought as if trying to remember something.

“Voldemort liked to collect trophies, and he preferred objects with a powerful magical history. His pride, his belief in his own superiority, his determination to carve for himself a startling place in magical history; these things suggest to me that Voldemort would have chosen his Horcruxes with some care, favoring objects worthy of the honor.”

“Cup…” Draco muttered. He looked at Dumbledore and said, “I remember when I was young, my Aunt Bellatrix was very happy. She claimed that the Dark Lord entrusted her something of great importance. A Cup that she needed to keep safe for him. It caused an argument between her and Uncle Rodolphus until she mentioned that it was from the Dark Lord. Then it became a thing of pride.”

“What would be so special about a Cup?” Harry asked.

Draco looked at Harry and frowned. “Do you remember the four artifacts from Hogwarts’ Founders, Harry? There’s Slytherin’s Locket, Gryffindor’s Sword, Hufflepuff’s Cup and Ravenclaw’s Diadem. It’s a children’s story as well as history.”

“Gryffindor’s Sword—you mean the sword I have pulled from the Sorting Hat?” Harry asked.

“Precisely,” Dumbledore said. “Though, that would bring the number of remaining Horcruxes up to three. We are still missing one.”

“The snake!” Harry said excitedly. “His snake that he always have around him.”

“I am thinking of the same,” Dumbledore said. “He must have used Nagini commit the final murder and thus create his last Horcrux.”

“It does act odd for a snake,” Draco muttered. “And he has an unusual connection to it.”

Dumbledore nodded, “That and many more has led me to this conclusion.”

“So we need to find the locket, cup, and diadem and somehow kill the snake?” Harry asked.

“I’m guessing so,” Draco said. “And we know the location of two of them.”

“We do?” Dumbledore asked.

Draco nodded. “Yes. I am certain that the Hufflepuff Cup is in my aunt’s vault at Gringotts. And we know that Nagini is always with her master, so that just leaves the Diadem and Locket to find.”

“Then perhaps, this is when I come in,” Dumbledore said. He looked at Harry and said, “As you may know, I have been leaving the school periodically. I have been looking for a very long time. I think… perhaps… I may be close to finding another one. There are hopeful signs.”

“And if you do,” Harry said quickly, “can we come with you and help get rid of it?”

Dumbledore looked at Harry very intently for a moment before saying, “Yes, I think so.”

“We can?” Harry said, thoroughly taken aback.

“Oh yes,” Dumbledore said, smiling slightly. “I think you have earned that right Harry. As for you Draco, it never hurts to have a dragon’s fire on hand.”

“Of course,” Draco nodded. Harry felt his heart lift. It was very good not to hear words of caution and protection for once. The headmasters and headmistresses around the walls seemed less impressed by Dumbledore’s decision; Harry saw a few of them shaking their heads and Phineas Nigellus actually snorted.

“Does Voldemort know when a Horcrux is destroyed? Can he feel it?” Harry asked.

“A very interesting question, Harry. I believe not. I believe that Voldemort is now so immersed in evil, and these crucial parts of himself have been detached for so long, he does not feel as we do. Perhaps, at the point of death, he might be aware of his loss …but he was not aware, for instance, that the diary has been destroyed, or when he had died at the end of last year,” Dumbledore said.

Draco frowned, remembering his encounter with the man during Christmas. “Would you think that as we destroy them, he would catch on?” he asked. “I mean, he seems more powerful than he ever was before, he looks unrecognizable.”

“As I have heard,” Dumbledore nodded. “But we thankfully have time before we have to face him, and in this time we must find the Horcruxes.”

“Harry and I can go to my aunt’s vault and destroy the Cup,” Draco said. “I have yet found something that Drogo’s Fire cannot destroy.”

“Then I shall conclude our meeting here,” Dumbledore said, “and for the first time I will give you both permission to leave the grounds for this task. Good night both of you, and good luck.”

“Thank you sir,” Harry and Draco said. They stood and left Dumbledore’s office by the doors. As soon as they’ve stepped off of the staircase, Harry hugged Draco. Shocked, Draco turned and easily lifted Harry up, hugging him as Harry wrapped his legs around Draco’s waist. “We’re doing it,” Harry whispered, “we’re doing it!”

“I know pet,” Draco whispered. “Come, there’s no way I’m leaving you tonight.” Harry grinned and leaned into his dominant, the dragon carrying his submissive into the dungeons. Harry only allowed him to carry him to the bottom of the dungeon floor before squirming out. “I don’t want Snape seeing me in your arms like that,” Harry blushed.

Draco chuckled and said, “Alright pet, then hold my hand.” He flourished his hand towards Harry.

“Stupid Lizard,” Harry snickered, but he smiled and took hold of Draco’s hand. The couple walked through the dungeons, Harry allowing his dragon to lead him through the dark maze of stone corridors, moving closer to Draco as it became colder and colder. “It’s cold,” he stuttered, “We must be under the lake or something!”

“We are,” Draco smirked. “Just wait till you see, there is a giant window to the lake. It’s eerie sometimes, but sometimes you get to see the Giant Squid.”

“And I get to see my Dragon in action,” Harry smirked. “Should be a riot.”

“What’s that supposed to mean Harry?” Draco asked.

“Well, you should know,” Harry shrugged. They’ve stopped in front of a stone wall and Harry frowned. “Why have we stopped?” He asked.

“Because we’re here,” Draco said. He looked at the wall and said “Starthistle.” The wall began to rumble in front of Draco and Harry. A doorway appeared as the walls slid away from each other, revealing the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. “Come on pet,” Draco said.

Draco pulled Harry through the doorway, and the walls closed behind him. Harry looked around the common room and found foul faces. The Common Room itself was nice, much better looking than when he and Ron sneaked in in their second year, there was a roaring fire in the back, and to Harry’s left he saw three huge windows that showed out to the lake. Everything was bathed in a green light, and the only thing that made Harry uncomfortable were the glares he was getting from the Slytherins. He looked at Draco, who ignored them and just walked forward. “Come on mate, we need to sleep,” Draco said.

Harry rolled his eyes and took a step before he felt hands pushing him back. Theo appeared between them, with Crabbe and Goyle on his sides, and Harry saw that Nott’s entire arm was burnt to a crisp, scars covering the entire length. Before they could make a move, Crabbe and Goyle flew to the side as Draco pushed past them and to Harry. “Nott! What the hell is going on?” he snarled.

“What the hell are you thinking of bringing _Potter_ to the Slytherin Common Room?” Nott yelled.

“He is my mate, my boyfriend, and we are going to bed,” Draco said.

“Disgusting poofs,” Nott sneered.

“Careful before I burn your other arm Nott,” Draco said.

“Just do it,” Harry said. Both boys look at him shocked as Harry moved forward. He placed a hand on Draco’s chest and smiled prettily at him. Giving Draco a quick wink, he turned to Nott and said, “My mate is a Drogo, the king of dragons, he could easily burn everyone in here to ash and only he and I would remain. By just lifting a finger Nott, you would be dead, as well as Crabbe and Goyle over there. Isn’t that right, my dominant?” Pulling a hand down Draco’s chest, Harry leaned up and kissed his cheek.

“That is correct, my sweet submissive,” Draco chuckled. He wrapped an arm around Harry and looked at Nott. “I can kill everyone in this room by doing nothing practically. And it could because of anything… looks… hisses… words… in fact Nott, why don’t I kill you now? After all you work with the Dark Lord. I should destroy you as I’ve destroyed my aunt.”

Nott seemed to pale as he stared at Draco. “You… you…”

“Yes,” Draco smirked, his hand moving down and grabbing Harry’s butt possessively. “So if you want to continue living, I would suggest you all to move out of the way, and let me and my boyfriend here to go to bed. Goodnight.”

“G-Good night,” Nott stuttered. Draco smirked as the entire common room became dead silent as the Slytherins moved out of the way, clearing a path to the stairs. Keeping his hand on Harry’s butt, Draco began to move. Both boys kept a straight, emotionless face as they moved, Draco oozing a dominant aura that Harry found comfort in. When they’ve reach the stairs, Harry started to crack, a smirk appearing at the corner of his lips. As they’ve climbed, the smirk grew and grew until they’ve reached the empty dorm. When the door closed behind them, Harry laughed, Draco joining them. “Did you see his face?” Harry asked, “Nott looked as if he was about to collapse. And the thing with ‘my dominant’ and ‘my submissive.’”

“I think I’m a bad influence on you Harry, if you’re acting like this,” Draco smirked.

“Shut up knife-ears,” Harry smiled. “Come on, I’m tired. And you brought me here just so we can sleep.”

“I know, I know,” Draco said. “So, tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow?”

“We’ll go get the Cup tomorrow,” Draco said as he disrobed. He began to unbutton his shirt, revealing his muscular pecs, as he looked up at Harry. “Love?”

“Sorry, it’s just I didn’t expect that we’ll go so soon,” Harry said.

“Well why not? Let’s get it over with,” Draco shrugged. “The sooner the Dark Lord is gone, the sooner we can live peacefully and finally mate.”

“You were saving it for that?” Harry smirked.

“Seemed appropriate,” Draco shrugged. He stood in only pants now and opened his arms. “Come here.”

Harry moved into Draco’s arms and hugged the huge teen, smiling when he felt muscles enwrapping him. Resting his head on Draco’s chest, he felt the heat radiating from the dragon as he listened to his heartbeat. “I’m nervous,” Harry admitted.

“So am I Harry,” Draco said. “We’re going against the strongest wizard in existence. Of course we’re so nervous.”

“Then why are you so calm?” Harry asked, “I can hear your heartbeat and it’s so relaxed.”

“Look at where I am? Alone, holding my love. Just the scent of you is relaxing, Harry,” Draco smiled. “Come on. Clothes off, than bed.”

“Whatever, knife-ears,” Harry chuckled. They’ve took their clothes off, and moved into Draco’s bed. Harry was practically laying on Draco, which neither boy minded as they just relaxed, their breathing synchronizing as they’ve let the empty room calm them. Moving so their chests touched, Harry kissed Draco sweetly and lazily. “Good night Draco… and thank you. I don’t know how I could even doing this alone.”

“You’re never alone Harry, remember that,” Draco whispered. Harry nodded and fell asleep, curled around Draco’s body. Smiling at his beloved, Draco stared at the top of his bed’s canopy. He hoped that he was right, and that nothing could survive his fire.

 

Stretching like a cat the next morning, Harry sat up on Draco’s lap, taking the time to admire his mate’s perfect body. A perfect body, Adonis’s body, Harry followed Draco’s defined chest with his eyes, licking his lips at the faint hair that brushed across the broad muscles, encircling his pink nipples that stood for attention; then downwards to Draco’s perfect abs, a treasure trail leading towards where Harry was sitting, Draco’s sleeping cock clothed beneath silk boxers. _We’re going to survive,_ Harry thought. _We are going to destroy the Horcruxes, destroy Voldemort and then we are going to mate. Mate… become a family…_ Harry smiled at the thought of having a family with Draco, even if it is just him and the dragon. As each day passed, Harry’s affection and want of Draco grew. He didn’t have a great sexual need, or any sexual need really, he just wanted to near the Drogo, kissing him and cuddling.

“You look pensive,” Draco’s sleep-laced voice chuckled deeply.

“Just thinking about us,” Harry shrugged.

“What about us?”Draco smirked, moving so he was leaning against the headboard. “You know,” Harry shrugged. “You, me… after we’ve mated… just living together.”

“Enjoying each other’s company and bodies every night,” Draco smirked. Harry blushed and nodded. “I see you like the idea pet, good…”

“You really need to decide on a nickname for me knife-ears,” Harry said, trying to distract Draco from his growing erection. “Come on, we should get up,” he said.

Draco chuckled and sat up. Harry moved to slide off of Draco’s body and bed, but the dragon stopped him, pulled him deeply for a kiss, and growled, “You’re mine Harry, no matter what anyone tells you.”

“And you’re mine,” Harry whispered, “every inch.”

“Every inch,” Draco smirked. The two stood up and ignored the sleeping Slytherins in the other beds. Harry looked for his clothes but frowned when he couldn’t find them. The two had to spend ten minutes looking for the smallest clothes and robes Draco had, which luckily were in a small bundle in a corner of his trunk. With Harry dressed in Draco’s Slytherin tie and robe, the two left the dormitory and into the common room.

“We’ll eat breakfast, I’ll head back to my dorm to change, and we will leave for Gringotts,” Harry listed. “I am not going in there wearing your robes.”

“Then just leave the robe,” Draco shrugged. “You look good with that tie Harry, really.”

“Fine,” Harry sighed. “Come on, we’re breaking into Gringotts… oh crap we’re breaking into Gringotts.”

“Not exactly,” Draco said as they’ve walked out of the common room and into the dungeons. “Bellatrix is my aunt, and she married into a very ancient family. I am sure she left me something, and that is my access into the vault.”

“Then how will we explain why I am there?” Harry asked.

Draco was silent as he thought. “I could simply say that you’re my mate and must stay with me wherever I go… though I don’t think goblins believe in that.”

“Nor will they care,” Harry said. “I’m sure we’ll think of something when we get there.”

“You’re right Harry, we will. But for the meantime,” Draco smirked as he pulled Harry by the tie and kissed him again, his sweet submissive melting in his arms. “That’s for looking so damn sexy in my clothes.”

Harry’s cheeks grew red. Draco just smirked and they continued on their way. When they’ve entered the Great Hall, Harry ignored the looks he got from wearing Slytherin robes and just sat down next to Ron and Hermione. “Harry, where were you last night?” Ron asked.

“I’ll explain later, right now I need to eat,” Harry said, piling food onto his plate. Hermione and Ron just nodded as Harry started to eat. In between bites he started to explain everything that happened yesterday, from him and Draco using the luck potion to their meeting with Dumbledore. When he was done recapping the events, Ron gave a low, long whistle.

“Wow mate, you two are going to steal from Gringotts all by yourselves? Nobody has done that ever!”

“I know,” Harry said. “Which is why I am too nervous about it. I know Draco’s a Drogo, but I’m still human. I can hold my own in duels, but who knows what those goblins have down there!”

“I heard they’ve got a dragon down there,” Ron said. “Supposed to guard the lower and richer vaults, you know.”

“Great,” Harry muttered.

“But I’m sure you’ll be fine mate,” Ron said. “After all you got a dragon yourself, yeah?”

“Yeah, I guess I do, and Draco said he’s positive Lestrange left him something right? It should be easy getting to the vault,” Harry said.

“But what about getting out?” Hermione asked.

“What?”

“You said it will be easy getting into the vault,” Hermione said, “but what about getting out?”

Harry frowned, he hadn’t thought about that. He turned to Hermione and said questionably, “Back the way we came?”

Hermione frowned, as if she didn’t believe Harry’s conviction, but said nothing. When breakfast was over, Ron and Hermione wished Harry good luck and that they’ll be in the tower when he and Draco come back. He stood and left the Great Hall, meeting up with Draco and Blaise. As promised, he took off the Slytherin robes, but left the tie. He gave it to Blaise who smiled. “Good luck Harry, make sure you stay safe, alright? Me and my boys are rooting for you.”

“Thanks Blaise,” Harry smiled as he turned to Draco.

Harry and Draco looked at each other for a moment before heading towards Dumbledore’s office, where he opened the fireplace to the Floo Network. The office was empty, Dumbledore still eating breakfast down in the Great Hall, and they both grabbed a handful of floo powder from the container on the mantel, through it in the fireplace, and walkthrough yelling “DIAGON ALLEY!”

Green flames shot up and Harry and Draco disappeared. When they’ve reappeared in the Leaky Cauldron, the boys walked out of the fireplace, much to the shock of Tom the barkeep. They’ve only nodded a ‘hello’ before moving to the back and into small courtyard that led to Diagon Alley. The small shopping distract was packed with witches and wizards doing some early shopping before going to work. Harry and Draco moved down the street with a purpose, sidestepping and moving around the witches and wizards that populated the street. Down at the end of the street stood the imposing snow-white building of Gringotts. The two climbed the white stairs to the burnished bronze doors, and Draco held the door open for Harry. Harry just rolled his eyes at Draco’s actions but walked in.

With his Drogo behind him, the boys looked around for a goblin. “So which one are we supposed to go to?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know,” Draco said. He looked around and frowned. Around them goblins worked endlessly, bent over ledgers writing countless numbers as stack of Knuts, Sickles, and Galleons surrounded them. Harry pointed to one goblin whose pile was the smallest and they’ve walked to them. “Mr. Draco Malfoy looking for access to Bellatrix Lestrange’s Vault,” Draco said. “She had left me an inheritance.”

“Form.”

“Excuse me?” Draco said.

“You need a form,” the goblin said rudely.

“I do not need a form, I am Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy fortune and I—“

“Need a form. Good day sirs,” the goblin said, not even looking up.

“She had left an inheritance to me,” Draco said. “I do not need a form to get a bloody cup from my dead aunt’s vault.”

“Then produce a copy of the will. Good day sirs,” the goblin said. Draco gave an annoyed growled and had to move away from the goblin in order to calm down. Harry followed and frowned. “Draco… I think I have an idea,” he said.

“Please, tell me,” Draco growled, his tone short and annoyed.

Harry didn’t take it personally as he said, “The Lestrange Vault is deep in the bank, right? Well, is the Malfoy vault near it?”

“It’s deeper,” Draco said, but yes it is nearer. On the same track I believe… wait…”

“Good you got it,” Harry said smirking at him. He walked up to the same goblin and said, “I’m Harry Potter, and we need access to the Malfoy vault.”

“And who are you to the Malfoys?” the goblin demanded.

“Draco Malfoy’s mate and future husband,” Harry said.

“It is true,” Draco nodded. “He is my mate and husband.”

The goblin finally looked up from his ledger and at the two boys. “Very well. Follow Gornuk.” The goblin pointed to another goblin that looked exactly like him. Harry and Draco nodded and went to follow Gornuk.

Harry and Draco smirked at each other as they approached a goblin waiting by small bronze door. “Malfoy Vault,” Harry said. The goblin nodded and opened the door, leading the two boys to a mine cart. Harry and Draco moved into the back seats as the goblin Gornuk sat in the driver’s seat. Harry barely got himself situated in the seat before he was lurched backwards as the cart sped off into the depths of the bank. Harry’s and Draco’s bodies squished together as the mine cart turned around sharp corners, vault doors blazing past them as exterior turned from the building to the inner caves. Rocks and stalactites surround them as the mine cart tracks dipped downwards, the cart gaining speed as they’ve went deeper and deeper into the vault. Somehow, during the air pushing against them like a punch to their chests, their hair whipping around and the thought of breathing difficult, Draco talked.

“My Vault is next to my aunt’s technically. It’ll be easy to lost the goblin for a bit, shift and fly there,” Draco said. Harry just nodded, not trusting his lungs, and his stomach, to talk. The mine cart continued to push downwards, Harry could swear he heard a roar of a dragon somewhere, or a roar of something as the tracks leveled out into a straightaway, a waterfall falling on the tracks. “What is that?” Harry asked concerned and worried.

“Thief’s Downfall,” Draco said. “It cancels out any enchantments and concealments that are casted on us. Don’t worry love, nothing will happen.” And just to prove the point, the cart moved past the waterfall with no problem, Harry surprised that he wasn’t even getting wet. “See, told you,” Draco smirked as the cart gained speed again. They’ve continued to speed deeper into the caverns, and again Harry heard a roar, followed by an extremely loud sound. He looked at Draco, wanting an explanation, but before he tried to open his mouth to ask the cart stopped abruptly.

“Malfoy Vault,” the goblin said, stepping out.

Harry stepped to see a giant silver door build into the cavern wall. He looked at Draco who calmly pulled out his wand and aimed it at the goblin. “Thank you,” he said. “ _Stupefy!_ ”

Before the goblin could react the spell hit him in the chest and he slumped to the ground, unconscious. “Sorry,” Harry muttered as Draco pocketed his wand and shifted. He grabbed the goblin with his front claws. Harry climbed on his back again and Draco ran off the ledge, flying slightly higher in order to reach the ledge twenty feet above their cart. They landed on the ground, Draco holding Harry, and they’ve turned to Lestrange’s door. They’ve stared at the door and Draco pointed his wand at the unconscious goblin. “We need his hand,” Draco said. With a flick of his wand the goblin became conscious. He looked around, confused, before Draco Confunded him. “Open the vault,” he commanded. The goblin nodded and walked to the vault door, placing his hand on it.

The door of the vault melted away to reveal a cavelike opening crammed from floor to ceiling with golden coins and goblets, silver armor, the skins of strange creatures—some with long spines, others with drooping wings—potions in jeweled flasks, and a skull still wearing a crown. Harry looked around amazed, before focusing on looking for the Cup. “Any idea what it looks like?” he asked Draco.

“I think so,” Draco said. “It’s Hufflepuff’s Cup right? Look for a cup with a badger or something.” Harry nodded and they both walked into the cavelike vault. “Where did they get all this stuff?” Harry asked.

“Most from history,” Draco said. “The Lestrange family is an old family, and they’ve amassed a lot of antiques and money throughout the years. Both due to other families marrying in that died out as well as money they’ve obtained through legitimate and illegitimate means. The same can be said about all old wizarding families. Minus the illegitimate means of course,” Draco chuckled.

“Including ours?”

“Yes,” Draco nodded. He smirked and said, “Our kids will probably be the riches in Britain.”

“Then we’ll make sure not to spoil them,” Harry said as he examined the armor. He looked up at the shelves where goblets upon goblets sat in both polished golds and silvers until his eyes landed upon one at the top. It was gold with two handles on the side, and in the middle was a carving of a badger. “Draco! I found it!” he said excitedly. Harry moved to grab it but was pulled back by a strong force.

“Wait,” Draco said quickly as he held Harry close to him. “There’s something you need to know.”

“What?”

“Everything here is cursed,” Draco said. “Every object is enchanted with the Gemino and Falgrante curses. If you touched something it will be burning to the touch and double.”

“Okay, so how are we going to get it?” Harry asked. Draco smirked and looked around. “I mean… we could always burn the whole thing, love,” Draco said.

“Or we could try to find a way to get just the Cup and possibly not cause the Lestrange family to lose all their money,” Harry said. Draco frowned and looked around. “It will be very tight,” he commented. Pet, stand back.”

Harry moved back and watched as silver flames filled the vault, a dragon standing in the middle of the cave. His wings folded onto his back, Draco lifted his neck until his head was level with the Cup. He moved to grab it, but as he did so his body brushed aside the opposite wall. “Draco!” Harry yelled as the shelves began to fall on the dragon, the goblets and gold multiplying as they all became hotter, and angry sizzling sound overtaking the vault as the dragon quickly became buried in the burning, duplicating treasures. Harry heard Draco’s roar and fire burst from the vault, Harry having barely enough time to jump out of the way.

From the ground, Harry saw melted gold oozing from the vault, making their way slowly towards Harry as more fire came bursting out, followed by Draco’s roars. In the distance Harry heard the roar of another dragon and the rocks shook. “Draco! Get out of there!” he yelled. He really wasn’t in the mood to fight a dragon.

“No! Not yet!” Draco’s voice yelled out, followed by flames. “I can’t get out yet!”

Harry heard a loud crashing sound followed by an explosion, and with a final burst of silver fire Draco flew out of the vault, his body covered in melted gold and silver. He dived, spinning to get the melted metals off of his body, before turning sharply and landed in front of Harry, dropping in front of him an undamaged Hufflepuff Cup. Draco took a breath and roared as he breathed fire. The Cup resisted, turning an angry yellow as it heated up, a loud sizzling sound whistling from it. Then, Harry heard a small snap and the Cup exploded in front of him, shards flying everywhere followed by a distant male scream.

Harry barely had anytime to say anything as he felt Draco’s claws on him. He was throw in the air and landed on Draco’s back as the dragon grabbed the seriously Confunded goblin and jumped down the ledge, landing directly on their cart. He shifted once Harry was off his back and offered a cocky grin as he walked to the cart. Having no words for him, Harry just followed him undid the charm on the goblin. They’ve returned to the surface without a problem and once they were out of Gringotts Draco stretched and said, “You can start showering me with praises Harry, I’m just that good.”

“You’re an egotistic prick who’s just happen to be good as vomiting flames, knife-ears,” Harry said. “But good job.”

Draco just chuckled and shook his head. “Love you too Harry.”


	16. Nott's Diadem

Chapter 16

Nott’s Diadem

It was night when they’ve returned to Hogwarts, most of the castle windows dark except for those by the Gryffindor Tower and Headmaster’s Tower. Holding Harry close to him, Draco opened the main doors into the castle and escorted Harry into the castle, both boys exhausted and satisfied at what they have accomplished. Draco pulled Harry towards the stone benches and they both collapsed onto it.

“One down…” Draco breathed, leaning his head on Harry’s as his Gryffindor rested on his shoulder.

“Yeah, but I have a feeling that was the easiest one,” Harry said. “We don’t know where the rest are.”

“Well, we’ll get through them anyway,” Draco sighed. They yawned and Draco asked, “Want me to walk you to the Gryffindor Tower?”

“Sure,” Harry said, starting to get up. “I feel like I’m just going to collapse any moment now.”

Draco followed and they both moved together, their footsteps always in sync as they made their way away from the entrance hall and into the Grand Staircase. They didn’t care about making noise, or even staying away from Filch; they’ve just finished destroying a Horcrux! Harry felt like worrying about Filch giving them a detention or taking points away paled in comparison of their adventure today. But they were lucky to have their walk uninterrupted, both of them just silent as they’ve just enjoyed each other’s company, Harry just wanting to hold onto his Drogo dominant for as long as he could. He found that the longer he and Draco were together, he had more… submissive behaviors. He didn’t mind it, in fact he found it very comforting, but it was odd.

When they’ve reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Draco pulled Harry in for a long, passionate kiss, and said his goodbye. Draco walked away from the portrait of the Fat Lady, but lingered until he was sure that Harry was safely in there. When he heard the annoying mutters of the Fat Lady as the portrait swung open and close, Draco chuckled and smiled as he started his way back to the Grand Staircase. Smirking with himself, Draco walked cockily into the Grand Staircase, the dragon holding his head high. He had a very good feeling that soon he and his beloved would finally mate, and he couldn’t wait for it.

He had everything planned, it would be simply perfect. But that would be a description for later, for while Draco’s head was busy planning his and Harry’s perfect first night of mating, he made his way to the Slytherin Dungeons where Blaise was waiting for him.

“There you are, so how did it go?” Blaise asked. “When we didn’t see you guys at dinner, my boys and I thought something bad must have happened.”

“Well actually if you have to know, our plan went off without a hitch,” Draco smirked as he sat down across from the Incubus. “We’ve entered Gringotts, got to my aunt’s vault, got the Horcrux and melted it to bits. As expected, nothing can stand up to my fire.”

“Very confident, aren’t you Draco?” Blaise smirked. “Good. You’ll need that to protect your boy.”

“And you, yours,” Draco said. He laid back on the loveseat and gave a yawn. “Sorry, it’s just Harry and I are extremely exhausted from today.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah… we’ve done this Horcrux easily enough, but who can tell where the bastard hid the other two we need,” Draco said.

“Two?”

“Yeah. There’s three left, but one of them is the Dark Lord’s giant snake, Nagini,” Draco said. “One of them is Ravenclaw’s Diadem if we’re following the logic that led us to Hufflepuff’s Cup that I just destroyed, and then there’s Slytherin’s Locket which is God knows where.” Draco gave an exhausted sigh and shook his head. “Maybe I’ll ask the Bloody Baron tomorrow about the Diadem. He’ll know.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Blaise said. He stood up and stretched. “Well, while you and Harry were off gallivanting around Gringotts, I was spending some quality time with my boys. I think Neville’s really coming around to the idea of us being a triad.”

“Really?” Draco asked, surprised. “I haven’t seen a lot of you guys recently, so that’s surprising.”

“Yeah, well we did nothing exciting, you know, just sat around and talked. Although Ron and I did kiss Neville a bit,” Blaise smirked.

“An activity I am very grateful to miss,” Draco commented. “As much as I like you as a friend Zabini, there are a few things I would not like to think about.”

“Whatever,” Blaise shrugged. “So, how do you think you’ll approach the Bloody Baron?”

“Just talk to him,” Draco shrugged. “He’s the ghost of Slytherin, he should give me the information I need, right? Or at least point me to the right direction.” He gave another yawn and stood. “I’m going to bed. Good night Blaise.”

“Night, I’ll be there in a bit.”

“I’m not waiting,” Draco said. He moved from the fireplace and into the dormitories. Mostly everyone was asleep, even Nott who was sleeping peacefully away from Draco, as if nothing had ever happened between them. Making sure to cast the usual protection around his and Blaise’s beds, Draco collapsed into his and barely had enough energy to shed his clothes before falling asleep.

The next morning, Draco woke up and dressed immediately, finding that he was the last one to wake. He decided to skip breakfast and instead search for the Bloody Baron. He started his search in the dungeons. Ignoring everyone he walked past, Draco searched every crevasse, dead end, and corridor in the dungeons; searching for any hint of a transparent baron. Finding nothing, Draco moved from the dungeons and into the entrance hall, where he could hear the usual loud barrage of conversations that came from the Great Hall. Remembering that today they’ve had classes, Draco moved quickly away from the Great Hall, needing to find the damn ghost before classes start in forty-four minutes and twenty-three seconds. Knowing that it is impossible to search an entire castle in forty-four minutes and twenty one seconds, let alone forty-four minutes and twenty seconds, Draco did the best thing he could do: Run.

He ran up the Grand Staircase, skipping the first and second floor, and begun searching on the third floor. Unfortunately the only ghost he ran into was the Grey Lady, Ravenclaw’s Ghost, and he thought of asking her momentarily for where the Bloody Baron is, but decided against it. It took Draco nearly seven minutes to search one side of the third floor, and another three to reach the other side, where the entrance to the Astronomy Tower is. Draco decided that he might as well check the tower since it is near his class and pushed open the door.

As the door swung behind him, silence overtook him, before a very faint rattling sound appeared. Draco looked around, trying to find the source of the noise, only to look up. The long spiraling staircase that hugged the walls seemed to be the only clue as to where the noise was coming from. He slowly began his ascent up the stairs, and was pleased to find that as he slowly went up, the rattling sound became louder. When he was halfway up the staircase, Draco realized that the rattling noise is someone rattling chains around, and when he had reached the top of the staircase five minutes later, he saw a transparent ghost boredly rattling chains that were wrapped around his body, silver blood coating his cloak.

“Bloody Baron,” Draco said.

The rattling stopped. The baron turned around to Draco, “What do you want?” he asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I need to know the location of the Diadem, Ravenclaw’s Diadem,” Draco said. “You are the same baron whom Rowena Ravenclaw sent to retrieve her only daughter Helena, when she ran away with the Diadem did you not? Where it is?”

“How dare you… how dare you remind me of that faithful day! You do not need to tell me of the terrible crime I have committed—I know what I have done! And I have repented every day since!” The Baron yelled. The next second, he was in Draco’s face, shaking the chains at the Slytherin. “What do you want from me? Information? I have none! The Diadem is in the same place where it has always been! Albania! Where I have killed dear Helena with my own hands… Go. Leave me. Ask Helena herself if you want to know more! She is Ravenclaw’s Ghost after all—just leave me in peace!”

“You’re not a very helpful ghost,” Draco muttered.

“I said go! Go before I throw you off the ledge!” The Bloody Baron yelled. Draco just gave him a sharp look before turning away. Descending the staircase, Draco decided that he had enough time to find the Grey Lady again before he had to run to class and his mate.

Luckily, the Grey Lady was still floating in the same corridor. Draco ran up to her and said, “You are Helena Ravenclaw, aren’t you?”

The ghost stopped and looked at Draco. “Where did you learn that name young man?” she asked.

“The Bloody Baron,” Draco answered. “I have little time, so please tell me everything you know about the Diadem.”

“Why should I? So you can use it to make yourself cleverer? Smarter? No. The Diadem is lost to time, and there it will stay,” the Grey Ghost said.

“But I don’t believe that,” Draco said. “I don’t think that it’s lost to time. After all, there must have been someone else who have asked for it specifically. Someone else who knew who you were.”

Helena stared at Draco. “I had… no idea. …He was …flattering. He seemed to… to understand… to sympathize. …”

Draco connected the dots and said, “You are not the first to be tricked by him. Believe me, that man could be charming whenever he could.” The Dark Lord most likely have asked Helena Ravenclaw about the Diadem and gotten it himself, Draco thought. Why else would he have talked to her? But there is no way he would keep it there in the woods, no not Voldemort, he is too prideful for that. He must have hid it somewhere else… somewhere close. “Tell me, was that the only time you saw the student?” he asked the Grey Lady.

“No. I have seen him once more. Years after we have first talked,” the Grey Lady said. “He came here not as a student, but as a potential teacher. He was still handsome, although something changed in that man. Dumbledore turned him down, naturally.”

“That must mean that the diadem is here!” Draco exclaimed. “The Dark Lord was looking for a place to hide the diadem, where else than the most secure place in Wizarding England? He must have hid it here that night. Thank you.”

“Wait, so this was all for you to wear the diadem? If you think that it will help you—“

“I’m going to destroy it,” Draco said. “Harry Potter and I are going to destroy it, and the piece of Voldemort’s soul that lies within.” And without waiting for a reply, Draco ran off, leaving the Grey Lady behind him as he rushed back towards the Grand Staircase and to Harry. “Harry!” he said when he saw his mate in the crowd of students walking out of the Great Hall.

“Draco, where were you? You weren’t at your table when I came down and Blaise never saw you—“

“I know where it is,” Draco said, suddenly out of breath. “You know… the diadem.”

“Tell me!” Harry said quickly. Draco shook his head. “Not here, we can be overheard. Sit next to me in Transfiguration, we’ll talk about it then.”

“Okay,” Harry said. He grabbed Draco’s hand and immediately changed the conversation to something mundane as they made their way to Transfiguration. They were the first to sit down and Harry whispered, “Okay so where is it?”

“Ravenclaw’s Diadem is in the Room of Requirement, the Room of Hidden Things,” Draco whispered. “I’ve asked the Grey Lady, she is Helena Ravenclaw, the daughter of Ravenclaw, and I’ve got her to tell me that the Dark Lord asked her about it too. He came back to Hogwarts years later to apply for a job, but Dumbledore never gave it to him. He must have hidden it then.”

“Then we’ll go to the Room of Requirement after class,” Harry whispered. “We’ll find the Diadem and destroy it.”

“And that’s one less Horcrux down, and one more piece of the Dark Lord’s soul destroyed,” Draco sighed.

Harry nodded as Professor McGonagall called for silence and attention. Harry was distracted all throughout the lesson, only able to think and worry about the Diadem and finding it quickly. They were supposed to continue their transformation spells, turning their partner’s body parts to animal parts. Several times Harry just barely managed to turn Draco’s fingers to feathers before slipping up and causing Draco’s middle finger to turn into a huge eagle’s claw.

At the end of class, with Draco having all of his fingers, both he and Harry told their friends that they will catch up with them later. When they turned the corner, Harry swore he saw Nott talking with Crabbe and Goyle, the two trolls running off somewhere as Nott went somewhere else. “Come on Harry, quickly!” Draco said, pulling Harry’s hand.

They ran up the staircases, moving around small crowds of students, pushing pass those they needed to until they’ve finally reached the seventh floor, and then the wall where the Room of Requirement hid.

 _I need the place where everything is hidden,_ Harry thought and the door materialized on their third run past. Going through, they’ve entered a place the size of a cathedral with the appearance of a city, its towering walls built of objects hidden by thousands of long-gone students.

“Where do we begin?” Draco asked as they ventured into the city, passing a broken Vanishing Cabinet.

“We should stick together I think,” Harry said. “There’s too much junk for us to separate, we might lose each other for a long time very easily.”

“That’s true,” Draco nodded as they passed a stuffed troll. They both stopped to stare at it, “Thank God that thing is dead,” Draco muttered. “Who knows how hard it would be to deal with a troll and finding a damn diadem.”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. They’ve turned a corner and went down an alley of junk; broken chairs, textbooks, ink bottles, crates, weapons, broomsticks, and broken armor rose in towers, creating cramped corridors, some even tunnels, as they made their way through the endless maze of the room. “This is going to take forever,” Harry groaned. Taking out his wand he yelled “ _Accio Diadem!_ ” But nothing flew towards them.

“Looks like Voldemort made sure we couldn’t simply summon it to us,” Draco muttered. “Come on, let’s take a left here.”

They’ve turned and seemed to walk into a corridor of old musty portraits, all of them depicting horrible acts of tortured and violence, their occupants screaming silently at them as they’ve moved past. They moved quickly through this make-shift corridor, and stopped short before running full speed into a plethora of swords, all of them bloodied and chipped, and merged into a throne-like structure. “That was close,” Draco breathed. “Come on, it might be over here.”

They’ve continued to search high and low throughout the room, only finding junk and other forgotten objects as they’ve made themselves more and more lost. They have past the same statue of a pockmarked stone warlock wearing a dusty old wig multiple times. After what seemed like hours, they’ve turned a corner and found something different.

“Nott!”

“Hello Draco,” Nott smiled at them. He was sitting on the throne of swords, and in his hands was an ancient, discolored tiara. “I overheard you and Harry in Transfiguration. You were looking for this correct? Shame really, it was easy for me to find. See that stone warlock? It was right under his nose.”

“Give us the diadem Nott,” Draco warned. “You do not want to anger me.”

“But I do you see,” Nott said. “This diadem holds great power, as well as our Lord’s soul. This shouldn’t be hidden away gathering dust. No, it should be respected, kept securely by the Dark Lord’s most trusted Death Eater. …Me.”

“You’re mad Nott to think Voldemort would care much about you,” Harry said.

“He does, I should know. Why else would he ask me to call him Tom?” Nott smiled. “Yes, I know his name. He only tells me these things. He taught me much Draco, so much. It’s such a shame really, you could have been in my position. But instead… it’s such a shame that I’ll have to kill you Draco. But know that with your deaths, I will be one step closer to my precious Lord.” Nott kissed the diadem and placed it on his head.

The faded jewel seemed to shine, a brilliant blue sprouting out of the jewel before it became corrupted, the blue becoming darker and darker before it just gave off a fatal black light. Nott’s eyes was closed, his mouth hung open as the diadem seemed to vibrate on his head, the Horcrux sinking into his head, merging with him as it formed perfectly around his head; his hair falling neatly behind it. “Master, I feel closer to you,” Nott moaned. “Your power and the diadem’s are merging inside of me Master. …Please my Lord, watch me as I crush your enemies! Ahh!”

Harry saw silver fire as Draco started to transform, “No don’t, it’s too dangerous!”

“Yes Draco, it is too dangerous,” Nott smirked, still sitting on the throne, his wand twirling in his fingertips. “I can already feel my Master’s power rushing into me, and I do believe that with every second I am becoming cleverer and cleverer. …” He took his wand, and with a single swipe the silent screaming corridor of paintings came to life, their screams echoing into the Room before ceasing completely, the portraits disappearing without a trace. Nott gave a cold, high laugh. “Yes… this is exactly what I am looking for.”

Draco growled in frustration. “What is stopping me from transforming and burning this entire room Nott, with you in it? You must know that myself and my mate are immune to my fire.”

“True, yes,” Nott nodded. “But I’m afraid you’ll be a little too busy to transform…” He stood up, and with another swing of his wand the swords he was sitting on strung to life, their chips healing and edges sharpening as they all aimed directly at Draco. “Sorry dragon, but I want a little chat with your mate here. So you’ll need to wait for a tad.” The swords all flew at Draco, and before he could even react, they took him into the air, piercing through his clothes and arms, and carried him away.

“Drogo skin is vastly superior to human, even when they take a human’s form. He will be able to heal if given the chance, but it will still hurt like hell,” Theodore Nott said. “Now, Tom told me that he wanted you alive, he wanted to kill you himself which I don’t blame… but my Master has given me permission to harm you in any way I can.”

Harry moved quickly, pulling out his wand but as soon as it was out of his pocket, it flew from his hand and into Theo’s. “Sorry but you will not be needing this soon. There are many things that lies in wait of this room… many particularly nasty things. I wonder how you will survive them. Well, we’ll see,” Theo chuckled. He moved his wand again and Harry was shocked to see the room changing before him, the towers and towers of objects bending to Theo’s will as they’ve collapsed, light being blocked out as they’ve formed endless tunnels. Darkness took over Harry, he could barely see his hand in front of him, the small rays of light that invaded the tight corridors keeping his eyes from adjusting to the darkness.

It was quiet. Silence surrounded Harry as he tried to look around, look through the small holes and gaps between the furniture, crates, textbooks, ink pots, quills, and other objects. The hairs on Harry’s arms stood up as fear started to take over him; he did not know what to do. Then, from the darkness, surrounding Harry’s head was Nott’s voice, altered, lower than before. “I hope you enjoy this game Harry. It really is quite childish if you think on it. I want to see how good you are without your magic, how long you will survive without spells to protect you. You are surrounded by a labyrinth, and while there is not a Minotaur roaming about to cut you limb from limb, there is another threat. I don’t want to ruin it, but just know that it can be quite… explosive if a rogue flame reaches it. Your wand is in the center. Have fun.”

Nott’s laugh rang through the corridors of the labyrinth. Harry did not have time to be angry as he started to walk. He had to find his wand quickly. Squinting, Harry could barely see what was ahead of him. Stone statues, now crumbled to pieces, seemed to serve as the walls as Harry reached out and felt their cold, rough texture. Moving lightly, Harry almost fell when his hand pushed towards nothingness, and his head almost smashing into the wall next to him. Harry turned in the darkness and started down the next corridor. He had no idea where he was going, he couldn’t use any of his senses to help him as the darkness that surrounded him deprived him of sight, touch, and hearing: the void enwrapping Harry in a dangerous cocoon of which he couldn’t escape.

With no sense of direction to go, Harry just wandered, hoping that in his blind stumbling he could somehow find the center, or at least any place where light could penetrate and help him. The small gaps that kept his eyes from adjusting seemed to disappear as Harry turned more and more corners, and with no light to reflect into his eyes, Harry’s fears started to play with him. Keeping both hands outreached, Harry looked around frantically, trying to at least see _something_ in the darkness. He did not know where he was going, he did not know how fast he was going, which only cause Harry worse pain as he turned and felt a sharp blade move against his arm, cutting a thin, shallow, long cut across the palm of his left hand. The darkness was finally penetrated by his screams as Harry brought his hands to himself, his blood bleeding down his wrist and arm. Harry backed up automatically and stumbled, tripping on some sort of curtain thing. Reaching for the fabric, he ripped it up and wrapped it around his hand, tying a tight knot. The pain still stung as Harry tried to find his way up without getting struck with that blade again. He turned around and went back the way he came before turning down another corridor.

“It is such a shame, to know that you’re alone. To be always forgotten in the darkness, never to get out. I was in that same darkness, until he came into my life,” Nott’s voice said in the corridors. “He came and showed me how powerful the dark can be. He taught me many things. There is so much more to darkness than the unknown Harry.”

Harry continued to stumble, holding his left hand to his chest as it’s bleeding started to slow, but not before soaking the fabric. Harry fell again, tripping over something. He reached a cautious hand towards it, and his shoulders relaxed when he realized he tripped over a stray candle lantern. Thanking God for his luck, Harry took the lantern in his left hand, clutching it awkwardly as he used his right to feel around inside. Inside was a full candlestick, it’s wick standing tall, as well as single match. Striking the match against the frame of the lantern, it took Harry a couple of times before the match struck and a flame appeared. He quickly light the candle, and closed the metal door. Smiling that he finally had light, he stood up, shifting to hold the lantern in his right hand, and held it up as he walked slowly, the candlelight illuminating his surroundings slightly.

He could now see the figures that made the corridors, old and used textbooks merging perfectly, some opened, their pages hanging down as the covers connected with each other, and others perfectly closed as they’ve bent around the arch of the tunnels’ top. With a sense of where he was going, Harry turned left to see a shroud of spiders covering the floor.

“Ron Weasley hates spiders, does he not? What will he think when he knows that you have failed him? How will he react when he knows that I have defeated you? …Each second you spend in this maze is only a second closer to your friends’ deaths Harry. But don’t worry, I will not let your friends know that you’ve failed them in their time of need. No, I will leave that information only to you, so you can fall into despair as my Master and I kill your friends one by one before finally killing you.”

Harry turned around and went the opposite way of the spiders. To the wall on his left a grandfather clock stood broken, it’s pieces merged poorly with a ripped up couch with a knife stuck too deep inside it. Harry continued on, the lantern held in the air, down the corridor before stopping. There at the intersection right in front of him was one of the paintings that disappeared. It showed a man surrounded by dead bodies. There was a noose around the man, and Harry watched as the ground around the man disappeared, the man falling into empty space before stopping suddenly, his neck snapping because of the rope. He stayed there a second or two before the ground and bodies appeared again, and the rope relaxed as his body was pushed upwards. Harry tried to keep his stomach and wits about him as he turned and moved swiftly away from the painting.

“It is interesting to view the two of you separately. You are fumbling aimlessly while your precious dragon is trying his best to keep from transforming. It seems he had recognized the dangerous potions that surrounded him. Pity.”

The candle was halfway down when Harry turned what seemed to him another corner in a set of endless corners. He felt, and knew, that he was far away from where he started. There was no sign of spiders or blades anywhere as he ran around corner after corner, trying to find the correct one. He lost his sense of time, he had no idea how long he was in there. He hoped that Draco was still doing okay against whatever he was against. He took Nott’s silence about Draco’s condition as a good indicator that his love was still alive. Going down the corridor of crates, Harry turned to see a strange sight. It looked like a stuffed black cloak that appeared to be half an inch thick. Harry’s entire body grew cold just staring at it, feeling as though he felt eyes staring at him from the strange cloak.

“The Lethifold,” Nott’s voice whispered. “Dangerous beasts who can only be repelled by the Patronus Charm. Thankfully they are extremely rare…and this one is dead. Go on Harry, just step over it. They only attack in the dark.”

Harry stared at the beast. It stayed unmoving, and that scared Harry even more. He remembered the Lethifold barely, the name was familiar somehow Harry just couldn’t remember what. Unfortunately for Harry, he couldn’t remember that he have read about the Lethifold years ago in a small book called _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , which states that the Lethifold, also known as the Living Shroud, is a highly dangerous beast that kills and devours it’s sleeping victims killing them by wrapping around them and suffocating them.

Harry took the chance and ran towards the still Lethifold, the lantern still held in front of him, and as soon as he was close to the beast, jumped. He landed a few inches away from the beast’s body, and heard a shuffling sound behind him. He turned, and to his horror saw the Lethifold gliding towards him, it’s body moving across the floor. Harry ran, not caring where he was going, or what direction he was taking—all he needed to do was get away from the Lethifold. He turned, and screamed as he felt a clammy iciness on his foot. Falling he kicked and struggled to see the Lethifold slowly enwrap itself around his legs and move ever so slowly up towards him.

“Get off! Get away!” Harry yelled as he struggled, kicking the black cloak but that only got it to hold tighter. When the creature reached his torso, Harry in an act of desperation took the candle from the lantern and jammed it directly onto the creature. He heard a sickening howl from the shadowy cloak as it caught on fire. The Lethifold burned, the fire quickly overtook it as its hold on Harry’s legs loosened. Harry kicked the Lethifold away, and gave a scream as a wisp of fire caught onto his shirt. Struggling to get the burning shirt off of his body, Harry kicked his way to his feet, and when he got his shirt off, threw the burning ball of fabric at the fleeing Lethifold.

With the creature gone, Harry shivered as he picked the candle up again and placed it back into the lantern. Wishing he had his robe to cover up his chest, Harry continued on. Feeling tired, he turned another left and groaned to only be met with another corridor.

“Continue on Harry. Soon it will just be my Master and I, and finally we can be together in peace.”

Fearing to meet up with the Lethifold again, Harry hurried, looking for any small ray of light through this terrible, terrible horror. Turning a third time, Harry made a sound when he saw a single ray of light in the darkness. He hurried towards it, and looked around, only to see more rays of light. He followed them, hoping to find a way out. Turning a third corner, Harry ran and soon found himself out of the darkness and into light. He gave a scream and covered his eyes, blinking rapidly to try and adjust to the new light. He looked around to see his wand sitting on a small stone stand. Dropping the lantern, he ran to his wand and quickly took it.

“Well done Harry, you’ve survived… and the only casualty is your shirt,” Nott chuckled behind him. Harry turned, his wand aimed at the boy. “Unfortunately, this is where it all must end.”

“Where’s Draco?” Harry demanded.

“Fighting a stuffed troll,” Nott chuckled. “If he survives the need to shift into a dragon, then he’ll be here shortly. It must be such a disadvantage when you need fire to change.” He took out his own wand and aimed it at Harry. “I promised Tom that I wouldn’t kill you, but you will be surprised at how much harm a body can go through without dying. _Crucio!_ ”

“ _Protego!_ ” Harry screamed as he tried to avoid the Unforgivable Curse. He fell to the ground and snapped his wrist as he yelled, “ _Stupefy!_ ”

Nott deflected the Stunner and said, “You will need to do more than that to kill me Potter!” He shot a blue light at Harry which he deflected as he scrambled to his feet.

“Harry!” Draco’s voice yelled out, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fighting Nott— _Protego! Protego!_ ”

“Hold on, I’m finding a way towards you!”

Nott flew towards Harry and casted the Cruciatus Curse again. Harry screamed as if he felt a thousand invisible knives plunging into him, not breaking his skin. He fell to his knees, but kept hold of his wand as he struggled to point it at Nott. “ _Pe—Petrificus—Petrificus Totalus!_ ” he yelled out. Nott barely moved out of the way, falling to the ground as the wooden statue behind him turned to stone from Harry’s spell. With the Unforgivable Curse broken, Harry took the advantage and scrambled to his feet.

Nott got to his feet as well, and the two started exchanging spells again, Harry on the defensive as he moved further back from Nott. The space between them light in different colors as their spells flew, sparks landing everywhere as they blocked each other’s spells. Nott’s attacks became faster and more furious as he stepped towards Harry. Harry’s eyes shifted towards the stone statue directly behind Nott, and without thinking pointed his wand at it and yelled “ _Accio!_ ”

The stone statue flew from its spot and came towards Harry. Nott realized too late what was happening and barely ducked when the stone statue slammed against his head, the statue shattering in half as Nott’s body slumped towards the floor. Nott’s body shuttered, his head cracked open in the back as blood started to pour out. Tears welled in Nott’s eyes as he stared out, his eyes slowly becoming cloudy as he said, “Tom… Master… I’m… I’m sorry. … I lo… … …”

Harry couldn’t help but feel sad as he looked at Nott’s body. He knelt down and placed his hand against Nott’s neck, feeling no pulse. “I’m sorry Nott, I’m so sorry,” Harry breathed. He closed Nott’s lifeless eyes and slowly slid the Diadem off of his head. Holding it in his hands, Harry could feel a tiny heartbeat coming from the piece of jewelry. The walls around Harry started to rumble as Nott’s magic went away, everything returning to its original place, and a direct path to the doors opening up.

“Harry!” Draco’s voice yelled. Harry turned only to see Draco’s chest as his dominant engulfed him in a hug. “Harry! Are you okay? What happened to your shirt? Where’s Nott—“

“I’m fine… I’m fine…” Harry breathed. “Nott’s… he’s dead. A stone statue knocked on the back of his head.” He pointed to Nott’s corpse.

Draco looked down and spat. “Finally, the damn bastard,” he growled.

 _He was only doing this out of love,_ Harry thought. _A twisted, evil love, but still love._ “Come on, I just want to get out of here,” Harry said. Draco nodded and took off his robe. Harry took it and put it on, breathing in Draco’s scent as he leaned into Draco. Right now he only wanted to be taken care of by Draco.

When they were out of the Room of Requirement, Harry looked around the corridor. “We can go back into the Room and destroy it,” he suggested. Draco nodded and together they’ve walked around three times before entering a completely empty room large enough for Draco to transform. Harry placed the diadem in the center of the room and moved back as Draco turned into a Drogo. Standing proud and powerful, Draco breathed fire onto the diadem, the jewelry disappearing in the silver flame. Harry watched as he did so and couldn’t help but think of Nott. The poor boy died for his love, a love that Voldemort never reciprocated. Could he, Harry, do the same for Draco?

“Harry, I’m done,” Draco said. Snapped out of his thoughts, Harry looked at Draco who was standing in front of him. “Are you okay kitten?” he asked.

“I don’t know… we should go tell Dumbledore that we’ve destroyed two Horcruxes,” Harry said. He moved towards the door only to be stopped by Draco, who pulled him into his arms. “Draco—“

“No, you’re not well. Let me take care of you Harry. Come on, we’re going to the kitchens. And after that, we will go to Dumbledore,” Draco said. He pulled Harry off of his feet and held him in his arms. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck and kissed his cheek. “Draco, thank you,” he said softly.

“Anytime my sweet kitten… I love you, you know.”

“I love you too knife-ears.”


	17. An Elf's Failure

Chapter17

An Elf’s Failure

Kreacher has failed his master. He had failed his master simply by doing one thing: he did not listen to his command. All his master wanted Kreacher to do was to take him where the Dark Lord took him, switch the Locket in the basin with the poison with the fake one Master had given Kreacher, and find a way to destroy it.

Kreacher, however, did not do this. No, the pain of watching his kind, sweet, considerate, and way more Black than his awful younger brother, Master being dragged to his death in the icy cold water by the soulless Inferi was too much for the old elf. He had little time to commit the act, yet in his sorrow he forgotten to switch the lockets, taking the real one with him back to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. It was only when he tried to destroy the Locket, opening it to only see his Master’s note did Kreacher find out he failed poor Master. Not wanting to seem a failure, however, Kreacher hid the locket and burned the note; Salazar Slytherin’s Locket still waiting in the basin filled with poison, just waiting for an unlucky wizard to drink it.

 

When Harry and Draco arrived at Dumbledore’s office, they were exhausted both physically and mentally. Draco made sure Harry got to the kitchens and they’ve both ate their miss meal before they went to the Headmaster. There was a permanent frown on Harry as they’ve made their way into the headmaster’s office. Dumbledore noticed the strange victorious melancholy that surrounded them. “What happened?” Dumbledore asked as they sat down.

Harry looked at Draco, who didn’t seem unfazed by what happened in the Room of Requirement, and sighed. “We found another Horcrux and destroyed it but… Theodore Nott died.”

“He was a Death Eater trying to kill us,” Draco pushed in. “He was the Dark Lord’s spy.”

“He was our age… and I…”

“It is alright Harry,” Dumbledore said. “You have not done a horrible thing, nor have you done an excellent thing. Taking a life is a very serious thing Harry, it is a remorseful task, a task that one should not forget nor wear with pride. It is a haunting, yet unfortunately sometimes necessary act.”

“Still feel awful,” Harry said.

“Good. Hold onto that feeling Harry,” Dumbledore said. “It only means that you are human.” Harry just nodded and Dumbledore looked at Draco. “Tell me exactly what happened, if you would.”

Draco nodded and did, recounting the day’s events that led to the destruction of Ravenclaw’s Diadem and Nott’s death. Dumbledore listened quietly, never interrupting as Draco detailed the tunnels Harry had to go through, and the Lethifold he had to fight as Draco was busy with a giant surrounded by extremely combustible potions. When Draco stopped talking, Dumbledore stroke his beard as he mused in silence. Harry just looked around, trying to control the strange feeling inside him.

“You both have faced many trials today,” Dumbledore said. “Harry, a Lethifold is an extremely rare, but thankfully rare, beast. We have acquired the Lethifold at least… let’s see I believe while Brutus Scrimgeour was Headmaster. It was deceased and stuffed, as was the giant you have fought Draco. To think that Mr. Nott had the intelligence and power to reanimate the dead like that with the Diadem, it is very troublesome. But I must apologize Harry, Draco, for I must ask you both to risk your life one more time today.”

“What do you mean Professor?” Harry asked.

“I believe that I have found another Horcrux,” Dumbledore said. “But before I allow you to go, I will tell you the condition that I will take you both with me, and that is that you obey any command I might give you at once, and without question.”

“Of course.”

“Be sure to understand me Harry, Draco. I mean that you must follow even such orders as ‘run,’ ‘hide,’ or ‘go back.’ Do I have your word?”

“I—yes, of course,” Harry said as Draco said “Yes.”

“If I tell you to hide, you will do so?”

“Yes.”

“If I tell you to leave me and save yourself, you will do as I tell you?”

“I—“ “Yes.”

“Harry.”

They looked at each other for a moment.

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good. Now then, we haven’t a moment to lose,” Dumbledore said rising from his seat. “Touch my robe.”

Harry and Draco stood and made their way towards the headmaster. As soon as they’ve touched his robe, Harry felt a pull from his navel and soon he felt as though he was being squeezed through a short metal tube.

Harry could smell and hear rushing waves; a light, chilly breeze ruffled his hair as he looked out at moonlit sea and star-strewn sky. He was standing upon a high outcrop of dark rock, water foaming and churning below him. He glanced over his shoulder. A towering stood behind them, a sheer drop, black and faceless. A few large chunks of rock, such as the one upon which Harry, Draco, and Dumbledore were standing, looked as though they had broken away from the cliff face at some point in the past.

“This is where they use to bring the orphans,” Dumbledore said. “Not here precisely, there is a village of sorts about halfway along the cliffs behind us. I believe only Tom Riddle and his young victims are the only ones to see this spot. Our final destination lies a little farther on. Come.”

Dumbledore beckoned Harry to the very edge of the rock where a series of jagged niches made footholds leading down to boulders that lay half-submerged in water and closer to the cliffs. Dumbledore light his wand and pointed to a fissure in the cliff into which dark water was swirling.

“Think we can fly there?” Harry asked, looking at Draco.

“Don’t know,” Draco frowned. “The opening looks too small.”

“Then I hope you two will not object to getting a little wet,” Dumbledore said, and with the sudden agility of a much younger man, Dumbledore slid from the boulder, landed in the sea, and began to swim, with a perfect breaststroke, toward the dark slit in the rock face. Draco and Harry followed.

The water was icy; Harry’s waterlogged clothes billowed around him and weighted him down. Taking deep breaths that filled his nostrils with the tang of salt and seaweed, he struck out for the shimmering, shrinking light now moving deeper into the cliffs. Draco seemed to have a rougher time, showing more annoyance and pain from the icy water as the dragon forced his way through the black waters.

The fissure soon opened into a dark tunnel that Harry could tell would be filled with water at high tide. The slimy walls were barely three feet apart and glimmered like wet tar in the passing light of Dumbledore’s wand. Draco was right; there would be no way he could fit in here. A little way in, the passageway curved to the left, and Harry saw that it extended far into the cliff. He continued to swim in Dumbledore’s wake, Draco taking the rear.

Then he saw Dumbledore rising out of the water ahead, his silver hair and dark robes gleaming. When Harry reached the spot he found steps that led into a large cave. He climbed up them, turned, and waited for Draco. Shivering uncontrollably in the still and freezing air, Draco was a needed heat source as he helped the dragon up, the Drogo unnaturally hot in the freezing place. “One second Harry,” Draco said.

Dumbledore was standing in the middle of the cave, he wand held high as he turned slowly on the spot, examining the walls and ceiling.

“Yes, this is the place,” he said.

“How can you tell?” Harry spoke in a whisper.

“It has known magic,” Dumbledore said simply. Harry looked at Draco, who also did not understand what the old man meant. Dumbledore continued to revolve on the spot as Draco pulled Harry into a corner.

“Stand still,” Draco said. Harry looked at Draco confused but before he could ask why his vision became obstructed by fire. Silver fire surrounded Harry, the flames holding him, touching his clothing and skin and instead of a burning pain, he felt a comfortable warmness. Harry’s clothes were as warm and dry as they had been hanging in front of a blazing fire, and his cheeks flushed from the heat emanating from the silver blaze. As soon as the fire appeared, however, it went away and Harry returned to the damp, wet cave with a smirking Draco standing in front of him. “Told you Harry, only you and I can survive my flames.”

“Here,” Dumbledore said, his hand pressed flat against the wall. “We go on through here. The entrance is concealed.”

Harry did not ask how Dumbledore knew. He had never seen a wizard work things out like this, simply by looking and touching but Harry had long since learned that bangs and smoke were more often the marks of ineptitude than expertise. Dumbledore stepped back from the cave wall and pointed his wand at the rock. For a moment, an arched outline appeared there, blazing white as though there was a powerful light behind the crack.

Harry and Draco watched as Dumbledore stood there staring at it intently, as though something extremely interesting was written on it. “Surely it couldn’t be so crude,” Dumbledore muttered after two minutes.

“What is it Professor?” Draco asked.

“I rather think,” Dumbledore said, putting his uninjured hand inside his robes and drawing a short silver knife of the kind Harry used to shop potion ingredients, “that we are required to make payments to pass.”

“You mean blood?” Draco asked, looking at the knife.

“Yes, I said it was crude,” Dumbledore said, sounding disdainful, even disappointed, as though Voldemort had fallen short of the standards Dumbledore expected. “The idea, as I am sure you will have gathered, is that your enemy must weaken him- or herself to enter. Once again, Lord Voldemort fails to grasp that there are much more terrible things than physical injury.”

“Yeah, but still, if you can avoid it…” Harry said, who had experienced enough pain not to be keen for more.

“Sometimes, however, it is unavoidable,” Dumbledore said, shaking back the sleeve of his robes and exposing the forearm of his injured hand. He struck it, a spurt of scarlet; the rock face was peppered with dark, glittering drops.

The blazing silver outline of an arch had appeared in the wall once more, and this time it did not fade away. The blood-splattered rock within it simply vanished, leaving an opening into what seemed total darkness.

“After me, I think,” Dumbledore said, and he walked through the archway with Harry and Draco on his heels, lighting their own wands hastily as they went.

An eerie sight met their eyes: they were standing on the edge of a great black lake, so vast that Harry could not make out the distant banks, in a cavern so high that the ceiling too was out of sight. A misty greenish light shone far away in what looked like the middle of the lake; it was reflected in the completely still water below. The greenish glow and the light from the two wands were the only things that broke the otherwise velvetly blackness.

“Let us walk,” Dumbledore said quietly. “Be very careful not to step into the water. Stay close to me.”

“Do you think I might be able to light the way?” Draco whispered. “I cannot tell how large the bank is.”

“Then we better error on the side of caution,” Dumbledore said. “Do not change yet.”

“Alright,” Draco nodded. They set off around the edge of the lake, their footsteps echoing, slapping sounds on the narrow rim of rock that surrounded the water. On and on they walked, but the view did not vary; on one side of them, the rough cavern wall, and the other, the boundless expanse of smooth, glassy blackness, in the very middle of which was that mysterious greenish glow. Harry found the place and the silence oppressive, unnerving.

“Professor… what do you think is in the water?” Draco asked, giving the black, smooth water an uneasy look.

“Something that I hope we do not have to deal with,” Dumbledore said.

“Do you think the Horcrux is in the bottom of the lake?” Harry asked.

Oh no… I think the Horcrux is in the middle.” And Dumbledore pointed toward the misty green light in the center of the lake.

“So we’re going to have to cross the lake to get to it?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“If we knew how big the middle is, I can fly us safely towards there,” Draco said. “But the edge here is too small for me to transform without touching the water.”

“I would advise against that Draco,” Dumbledore said. “Oho,” he said happily, seconds later. His hand had closed in midair upon something Harry could not see. Dumbledore moved closer to the water; Harry watched nervously as the tips of Dumbledore’s buckled shoes found the utmost edge of the rock rim. Keeping his hand clenched in midair, Dumbledore raised his wand with the other and tapped his fist with the point.

Immediately a thick coppery green chain appeared out of thin air, extending from the depths of the water into Dumbledore’s hand. Dumbledore tapped the chain, which began to slide through his fist like a snake, coiling itself on the ground with a clinking sound that echoed noisily off the rocky walls. A ghostly prow of a tiny boat broke the surface, glowing as green as the chain and floated towards them.

“How did you know that was there?” Harry asked.

“Magic always leaves traces,” Dumbledore said as the boat hit the bank with a gentle bump, “sometimes very distinctive traces. I taught Tom Riddle. I know his style.”

“Is this boat safe?”

“Oh yes, I think so. Voldemort needed to create a means to cross the lake without attracting the wrath of those creatures he had placed within it in case he ever wanted to visit or remove his Horcrux,” Dumbledore said.

So we’ll have to use the Dark Lord’s boat to get across,” Draco said. “Do you think it’ll hold all three of us?”

“It doesn’t look like it was built for two people, let alone three,” Harry said.

Dumbledore chuckled. “Voldemort will not have cared about the weight, but about the amount of magical power that crossed the lake. I rather think an enchantment will have been placed upon this boat so that only one wizard at a time will be able to sail it. But I do not think that neither of you will count. You both are underage, it should not matter that you are a Drogo, Draco. You are still underage. Voldemort would never have expected a sixteen year old to reach this place.”

“Then let’s get on,” Draco nodded, but the words didn’t raise Harry’s morale. He allowed Draco to help him get on the boat after Dumbledore. They were crammed in together, but somehow the boat started to move.

Harry looked down and saw the reflected gold of his wandlight sparkling and glittering on the black water as they passed. The boat was carving deep ripples upon the glassy surface. And then Harry saw it.

“Professor! I think I saw a hand in the water—a human hand!”

“Yes, I am sure you did,” Dumbledore said calmly.

“Harry stared down into the water, looking for the vanished hand, and a sick feeling rose in his throat.

“Sir, you are not thinking that the Dark Lord is using… Inferi here, are you?” Draco asked.

“Bodies! In the lake!” Harry pointed out, several marble-colored bodies floating just underneath the surface.

“Yes, but we do not need to worry about them at the moment,” Dumbledore said. “I am sure that once we take the Horcrux, however, we shall find them less peaceable. However, like many creatures that dwell in cold and darkness, they fear light and warmth, which we shall therefore call to our aid should the need arise. I must expect you should be an expert at that, Draco.”

“Of course,” Draco nodded.

Soon enough the greenish light seemed to be growing larger at last, and within minutes, the boat had come to a halt, bumping gently into something that Harry could not see at first, but when he raised his illuminated want he saw that they had reached a small island of smooth rock in the center of the lake.

The island was no larger than Dumbledore’s office, an expanse of flat dark stone on which stood nothing but the source of that greenish light, which looked much brighter when viewed close to. Harry squinted at it; at first, he thought it was a lamp of some kind, but then he saw that the light was coming from a stone basin rather like the Pensieve, which was set on top of a pedestal.

“Too small,” Draco frowned. “It is impossible for me to turn on his island; I’ll be pushing you and Dumbledore into the lake.” They followed Dumbledore onto the island and towards the basin. Inside it was an emerald liquid emitting that phosphorescent glow. “Strange, I don’t recognize this potion,” Draco said.

“Sir, no don’t touch—“ Harry said as Dumbledore stretched out the tips of his burned fingers toward the surface of the potion.

“I cannot touch,” Dumbledore said, smiling faintly. “See? I cannot approach any nearer than this. You try.”

Staring, Harry put his hand into the basin and attempted towards the potion. He met an invisible barrier that prevented him coming within an inch of it. He and Draco watched as Dumbledore raised his wand and made complicated movements over the surface of the potion, muttering soundlessly. Draco frowned as he stared at the basin. “The Horcrux has to be at the bottom of it,” he said. “If we can only touch the basin, I could try to boil the potion away.”

“How so?” Harry asked.

“My fire’s the hottest fire in the world Harry,” Draco smiled. “I can easily get rid of this liquid in a couple of minutes if I wanted to.”

Dumbledore stood up from the basin and, almost absentmindedly, raised his wand again, twirled it once in midair, and then caught the crystal goblet that he had conjured out of nowhere. “I can only conclude that this potion is supposed to be drunk.”

“What? No!” Harry said.

“Yes, I think so: Only by drinking it can I empty the basin and see what lies in its depths.”

“But what if it kills you?”

“I don’t think that’s the point,” Draco said. “The Dark Lord wouldn’t want the potion to kill the person who reached the island. He would want to kill him himself, after interrogating him about how he had reached this island of course.”

“My thinking precisely Draco,” Dumbledore nodded. “Do not forget Harry, Lord Voldemort believes that he alone knows about his Horcruxes. Undoubtedly, this potion must act in a way that will prevent me taking the Horcrux. It might paralyze me, cause me to forget what I am here for, create so much pain I am distracted, or render me incapable in some other way. This being the case, Draco, Harry, no matter what happens or what I say, you must make sure I keep drinking. Even if you have to tip the potion into my protesting mouth. You understand?”

“Yes sir,” Draco said immediately.

“Okay,” Harry sighed, not wishing to do such a thing.

Dumbledore lowered the crystal goblet into the potion. The goblet sank into the surface as if nothing was blocking it, and when it was full Dumbledore brought the potion to his lips. Harry waited for Dumbledore to start screaming in pain, but he didn’t. Dumbledore just shook his head, closed his eyes, and plunged the glass back into the basin. Dumbledore continued drinking.

By the fourth goblet Dumbledore staggered and fell forward onto the basin. His eyes still closed, his face was twitching like having a horrible nightmare.

“Professor…” Harry said.

“Wait,” Draco commanded, pointing to Dumbledore as he tried to continue to drink, his grasp on the goblet slacking. Harry rushed forward and took hold of the goblet and held it steady. “Professor,” Draco said from Harry’s side. “Professor, can you hear us?”

Dumbledore panted and then spoke in a voice Harry did not recognize, for he had never heard Dumbledore frightened like this.

“I don’t want… Don’t make me…”

“Sir, you have to,” Draco said. He placed his hand over Harry’s and tipped the potion into Dumbledore’s mouth.

“No…” he groaned as they lowered the goblet back into the basin and refilled it for him. “I don’t want to… I don’t want to… Let me go…”

“Relax Professor,” Draco said. “Just drink.”

“Please Professor, it’s alright, I’m here,” Harry said, his hand shaking underneath Draco’s. They continued this for the rest of the potion in the basin. Draco’s grip was strong on Harry’s, his large hand coaxing Harry’s smaller one to stay calm as they worked together. Dumbledore’s protests worsened with each goblet: he screamed, he cowered, he pleaded for the boys to stop, yelling at an invisible torturer that only Dumbledore could feel or see. As Harry filled the goblet the ninth time, Dumbledore fell forward, screaming again, hammering his fists upon the ground. “Please, please, please, no… not that, not that, I’ll do anything …”

“Just drink,” Draco said.

Dumbledore drank like a child dying of thirst, but when he had finished, he yelled again as though his insides were on fire.

Harry scooped up a tenth gobletful of potion and felt the crystal scrape the bottom of the basin.

“We’re nearly there, Professor. Drink this, drink it…”

He supported Dumbledore’s shoulders and again Dumbledore drained the glass; then Harry was on his feet once more, refilling the goblet as Dumbledore began to scream in more anguish than ever.

“Hurry Harry!” Draco yelled.

Dumbledore was pleading to be killed as Harry and Draco brought the goblet towards him. “Drink this Dumbledore, and it’ll all be over,” Harry said.

Dumbledore gulped at the goblet, drained every last drop, and then, with a great, rattling gasp, rolled over onto his face.

“No!” Harry shouted, who had stood to refill the goblet again. Draco heaved Dumbledore on his back. “ _Rennervate_!” he yelled, pointing his wand at Dumbledore. “Come on! Work! _Rennervate_!”

Dumbledore’s eyelids flickered; Harry’s heart leapt.

“Sir, are you—?”

“Water,” Dumbledore croaked.

“Water,” Harry panted. “Yes—“

With goblet in hand, Harry pointed his wand at it and shouted, “ _Aguamenti_!”

The goblet filled with clear water; Harry dropped to his knees beside Dumbledore, raised his head, and brought the glass too his lips—but it was empty.

“But I had some—wait— _Aguamenti_!” Harry said again, pointing his wand at the goblet. Draco stood up and looked in the basin, seeing it was empty except for a golden locket curled at the bottom. As Draco studied the locket, Harry kept desperately to fill the goblet, but every time it filled with clear water, it was always gone before the goblet touched Dumbledore’s lips.

His brain whirling in panic, Harry knew, instinctively, the only way left to get water, because Voldemort had planned it so …

He flung himself over to the edge of the rock and plunged the goblet into the lake, bringing it up full to the brim of icy water that did not vanish. “Harry! No!” he heard Draco scream.

Harry tipped the water clumsily over Dumbledore’s face. It was the best he could do, for the icy feeling on his arm not holding the cup was not the lingering chill of the water. A slimy white hand had gripped his wrist, and the creature to whom it belonged was pulling him, slowly, backward across the rock. The surface of the large was no longer mirror-smooth; it was churning and everywhere Harry looked, white heads and ands were emerging from the dark water, men and women and children with sunken, sightless eyes were moving toward the rock: an army of the dead rising from the black water.

“ _Petrificus Totalus!_ ” Harry yelled, struggling to cling ot the smooth, soaked surface of the island as he pointed his wand at the Inferius that had his arm: It released him, falling backward into the water with a splash; he scrambled to his feet, but many more Inferi were already climbing onto the rock, their bony hands clawing at its slippery surface. Draco’s voice was yelling as fire erupted from his wand, trying to fight against the numerous Inferi. The Inferi ran from Draco’s flames, but they were replaced quickly by others. “Harry! Stop gawking and use fire damn it!” Draco yelled at Harry, snapping him out of his stupor.

Harry raised his wand and fire erupted from his, though smaller and weaker than Draco’s, the Inferi were still scared of Harry’s flames as he tried to have it circle around the small island. Like a lasso, their flames whirled around, encircling them with their warmth. The Inferi bumped into each other, attempted, blindly, to escape the fire in which they were being enclosed. Sensing Draco’s idea, Harry moved with him as the flames tightened around the creatures.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Harry saw Dumbledore struggling to his feet, pale as the Inferi but still alive. Wordlessly the headmaster gestured to Harry and Draco to come to his side. Distracted by the flames, the Inferi seemed unaware that their quarry was leaving as Dumbledore led Harry and Draco back to the boat, the ring of fire moving with them, around them, the bewildered Inferi accompanying them to the water’s edge, where they slipped gratefully back into the dark waters.

“Are you alright Harry?” Draco asked once they were in the boat.

“Think so—I forgot about fire, they were coming to me and I panicked—“

“Quite understandable,” Dumbledore said. “But you both worked quickly to remember.” Harry was alarmed at how faint his voice sound. “Do you have it? The Horcrux?”

“Yes, I do,” Draco said, pulling the locket out of his robes for a moment.

“Good…”

They reached the bank with a little bump and Harry and Draco leapt out, then turned quickly to help Dumbledore, the ring of fire Draco was concentrating to keeping falling. Dumbledore gave a great sigh and leaned against the cavern wall.

“I am weak…” he said.

“Don’t worry sir,” Harry said at once, anxious about Dumbledore’s extreme pallor and by his air of exhaustion. “Don’t worry. We’ll get us back, Draco take one side.” Pulling Dumbledore’s arms around their shoulders, Harry and Draco guided their headmaster back around the lake.

“The protection was… after all… well-designed,” Dumbledore said faintly. “One alone could not have done it. …You did very well, Harry, Draco. …”

They moved slowly out of the cave. The entrance closed again, but Draco took Dumbledore’s knife and gave his arm a small cut, splattering his blood on it for it to open. Once outside, Harry and Draco placed Dumbledore on a boulder as they’ve breathed the sea air, gathering their strength again.

“We’ll Apparate back, headmaster,” Draco said. “Just tell us where.”

“Hogsmeade,” Dumbledore said.

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated harder than he had ever done upon his destination. Gripping Dumbledore’s arm as tightly as he could, he stepped forward into that feeling of horrible compression.

He knew it had worked before he opened his eyes: the smell of salt, the sea breeze had gone. Instead, a terrible heat seemed to surround him. Opening his eyes, Harry and Draco turned to see a horrible sight.

Hogwarts was on fire, and there, hanging in the sky was a blazing green skull with a serpent tongue.


	18. Their Resting Place

Chapter 18

Their Resting Place

“What happened?” Harry gasped.

“I don’t know… but we need to get back there fast,” Draco said. They both stared at the burning castle, the Dark Mark still hanging in the air, looking down on the chaos.

“We need to return to the castle immediately,” Dumbledore said. “Draco, if you would be so kind?”

“I’ll shift sir, but only Harry can touch my scales without burning,” Draco said.

“I will be fine,” Dumbledore said. “I’ve suffered more in my life than a few burns.”

“Alright,” Draco said, seeing that they have no time to argue. He took a couple of steps from Harry and Dumbledore and transformed in a vortex of silver fire. “Harry, Headmaster,” Draco said, crouching on all fours. Harry climbed on no problem, hugging Draco’s neck as he laid his body down on Draco. He looked over his shoulder to see Dumbledore casting a ward on himself before climbing on Draco. A sizzling sound filled the air as Dumbledore’s clothes and body touched the burning scales of the Drogo. When Draco made sure they were both safely on his back, he spread his gigantic wings and beat them against the ground, lifting into the air and started his hurried, frantic flight towards Hogwarts.

While Draco was flying his way back to Hogwarts with his beloved and Headmaster on his back, it is, purpose, helpful to learn of how exactly Hogwarts became alight with fire. It started with Nott, he was alive at the time, and his small orders to Crabbe and Goyle.

It was after Transfiguration class and Nott was staring at Harry. “Why you staring at him, Nott?” Crabbe asked.

“They’re up to something, I just know they are,” Nott said. “I’ve heard them talking in class. Something about a diadem.”

“A diadem?” Goyle repeated dumbly. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know,” Crabbe said.

Nott sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Idiots,” he said. “It’s a tiara, a crown. Though why they want to look for it, I cannot begin to tell. They’ve said something about Ravenclaw’s diadem and a Room of Requirement, whatever that is.”

“So what?” Goyle asked.

“So what? So what? I’ll tell you so what!” Nott yelled. “You two go and tell my Lord. Tell him that I, his lover, am going to follow Potter and Malfoy to this Room of Requirement for this Diadem. This is the perfect time to kill both of them! With them gone, nothing will stand before him, it will be the perfect time to capture Hogwarts.”

Crabbe and Goyle just looked at each other dumbly for a moment. Nott seemed to have gotten impatient with them as he yelled, “Go!”

The two brutes hurried away from Nott. They’ve turned the corner and went out of sight. Nott waited a moment, making sure that nobody was around before he turned towards the direction Malfoy and Potter went, and began to follow them.

Crabbe and Goyle ran around the castle, looking for a fireplace they can use. They first thought to run down to the dungeons and into the Slytherin common room. The two looked for floo powder in the room only to find that there was none around. “Where can we find floo powder?” Crabbe asked.

“I don’t know, but Nott’ll be mad if we don’t do it,” Goyle said.

“What’s the matter?” Millicent Bulstrode asked.

The two turned towards her and said, “We need to find floo powder, or Nott’ll be angry,” Goyle grunted.

“Then go to Snape’s office,” the bulky female Slytherin said. “He should have some.”

The two grinned at each other before looking at Blustrode. “Thanks,” one of them said. Before the girl could respond, they both turned and ran out of the room like a pair of lumbering trolls. Snape’s office was located deep in the dungeons, at the end of the long corridor that housed the classrooms used for potions. They lingered by the door and Crabbe pressed an ear to the door. He didn’t hear anything and looked at Goyle. “Clear,” he grunted.

They opened the door and looked around. The office was empty, and in the corner was exactly what they were looking for. Goyle grabbed the entire container of Floo Powder and in his haste threw the entire container into the fire and yelled out “Malfoy Manor!”

The two Slytherins squished their heads together and thrust them into the fire. They looked around only to see Mr. Malfoy sitting in the room, reading. “Where’s the Dark Lord?” Goyle demanded.

Lucius Malfoy barely looked from his book. “And why are you two here?” he asked smoothly.

“Nott sent us where’s the Dark Lord,” Crabbe said.

Lucius just gave them a sharp look. “Children really shouldn’t be playing this game,” he said. “You should go back to playing pranks before either one of you die. Or both… not that we would be losing much.”

“Sod off! We need the Dark Lord!” Goyle yelled.

There was a sound of a door opening, and before the two young Slytherins knew it, their vision was blocked by a gigantic snake. “Lucius? What is this interruption?” Lord Voldemort asked.

“The offsprings of Crabbe and Goyle,” Lucius said, placing his book down and turning his full attention to his Lord. “It appears that Nott’s boy sent them.”

“Nott? Hmm… Nagini, move so I can see them,” The Dark Lord said. The snake slithered away from the two heads. Voldemort was sitting in an armchair in front of the fireplace, looking imposing as he stared down at the two young Slytherins. “Now,” he said, each word filling Crabbe and Goyle with fear, “why did Theodore send you to me?”

The two looked at each other, scared to talk. “Well? Why are you two wasting our time?” The Dark Lord asked immediately.

“Tell him Crabbe,” Goyle said.

Crabbe frowned but looked at Voldemort. “Nott told us… he heard Potter and Malfoy talking. They say something like a dia…diedum… a uhh diadem something or other. Ravenclaw’s diedum!”

Voldemort’s eyes slanted. “Ravenclaw’s Diadem,” He repeated. His fingers clutched on the arms of his chair. “Potter knows about the diadem?” he snarled.

“Uhh yeah,” Crabbe grunted. “But Nott’s going after them! He’s following them to the uhh Room of Requirement where he’s gonna kill Potter and Malfoy for you!”

“What?” Voldemort yelled, standing. “That boy was specifically ordered not to kill Potter. That honor is mine and mine alone. Although, it seems that with Potter and the Drogo preoccupied with Nott, it would be the perfect time to plan an assault. Lucius, I want you to call the rest of the Inner Circle, from everything Nott has informed me about Dumbledore and Potter, I believe it might be time to take Hogwarts.”

“Of course, my Lord,” Lucius said as he rose from his chair. The Malfoy left the room in a hurry as Voldemort moved to leave, Nagini following him.

“Hey! What about us?” Goyle asked.

Voldemort didn’t even glanced back at them. He waved his hand and the fireplace surged to life, the roaring flames surrounding Crabbe’s and Goyle’s heads. Intense heat burned their faces as they both felt a powerful force push them violently from the fireplace. Their bodies when flying, moving like rag dolls in the air as they flew into the air and landed on Professor Snape’s desk, destroying it. Their bodies aching, they screamed in panic as they patted their heads frantically, trying to get rid of the intense heat, only to find that there was no fire at all. Their faces were unharmed, and the only pain they were in was from their collision with Snape’s desk.

It was hours later the two brutes heard from the Dark Lord again. They have not seen Nott since he disappeared to follow Malfoy and Potter, and now there was a rumor that Dumbledore was gone from the castle. It was the perfect time to strike, at least the Dark Lord thought so. When the two idiotic Slytherins told Voldemort of Dumbledore’s absence, the Dark Lord worked immediately. Every single fireplace in Hogwarts flared to life, an angry crimson flame bursting and devouring whatever room they were in; the magical flames did not destroy any furniture but instead focused on the barriers that protected Hogwarts.

The inhabitants of Hogwarts heard a series of explosions that shook the castle to its foundation. Students began to panic as the professors tried to keep order with the Headmaster’s absence. The castle seemed to groan with its protection gone and Death Eaters started to filter into the castle.

Pandemonium. The castle was in Pandemonium: the professors were trying their hardest to get the students to safety, Seventh years who wanted to join the battle as sixth and below were told to evacuate the castle. Killing Curses filled the air, corridors started to collapse as suits of armor and statues were brought to life to defend their home. And fire. Fire was everywhere, the Dark Lord taking it upon himself to incinerate the castle. Somehow Professor McGonagall was able to send a message to the rest of the Order of the Phoenix, and in the first hour of the battle they started to appear, Kingsley bringing with him other Aurors from his Department to help fight back the Death Eaters. Bodies started to pile up, the screams of children as they tried to run away from the Death Eaters, or attempt to fight with weak spells. The only place untouched by fire or Death Eaters was the dungeons where most of the Slytherins cowered, waiting out the storm as their parents or parents’ associates battle with the Dark Lord.

There was also the Gryffindor Tower, though that was only because of the courageous endeavors by the Gryffindor students to fend off the Death Eaters, as well as their unlikely ally. Skin black as night, muscles bulging, sharp claws and tail: the Incubus could be seen physically fighting the Death Eaters, pushing them away, swiping at them with his claws, and with the agile movements of a panther, the demon jumped from one victim to the next, distracting and hurting them enough for his two mates to stun or incapacitate them.

It looked as though Voldemort’s army would lose, the small number of Death Eaters slowly dwindling. But it only got worst as the Dark Lord’s reinforcements came running from the Forbidden Forest. Werewolves, giants, and other terrible creatures seemed to surround the castle and the defenders needed to focus on them as well.

It was a deadlock after that point, both sides losing, children screaming, kids dying, and a mess of terrible, ferocious events that only caused the Dark Lord glee.

This was the situation that Draco, Harry, and Dumbledore were flying towards: A battle with many casualties, many more still fighting, and the Dark Lord sitting in the Headmaster’s chair, enjoying the chaos around him as he waits for his final three victims.

 

Draco landed in the courtyard with the two great doors that led into the entrance hall. “What happened?” Harry said as he looked around. Unconscious werewolves littered the courtyard.

“I fear that Voldemort took advantage of our absence,” Dumbledore said. “We must all move quickly to make sure the students are safe. Draco, do you still have the Horcrux?”

“In my robes,” Draco answered as he shifted.

“Good. Before we destroy that, we must know exactly what is happening in the castle. We will split then, I will search for my fellow staff while you two check on the four common rooms, understand?” Dumbledore ordered.

“Yes,” both Harry and Draco said.

The three pushed through the doors and into the ruined castle. Flames still danced around the walls, burning some paintings as its inhabitants ran away from the world-destroying flames. Smoke filled the room, blinding Harry as he had to squint to see what exactly is happening around him. He took a step forward and made a sound as he felt his foot kick into something. Dumbledore took out his wand and in an instant the smoke and flames vanished. Harry looked down and frowned when he saw that the thing he steped into was a body. “Oh god!” He gasped. Laying on the floor, surrounded by unconscious werewolves and Death Eaters was Hermione. Tears started to well in Harry’s eyes. “Not Hermione, no,” he said.

Dumbledore bent down and listened for a moment. “At ease Harry, she is still with us. But we must hurry now. And make sure that she is the worst of what we have suffered.”

“Looks like she gave a hell of a fight,” Draco said as he looked around. “Come on Harry, we’ll go to the Gryffindor Tower first. It will be faster if I fly us there.”

“Alright,” Harry nodded. The two ran across the werewolves and Death Eaters that Hermione fought and towards the Grand Staircase. The stairs were somehow still standing, though some were missing banisters and chunks of stairs as they’ve stayed motionless. Draco shifted the first chance he got and grabbed Harry with his claws. Harry held on tight as the Drogo flew up the stairways, his wings tight to his body as he made his way. All around them Harry heard the sounds of fighting. Some of the Death Eaters seemed to notice them as Harry heard shouts aimed at them followed by the whizzing sounds of spells and their pathetic sputter as they hit Draco’s scales. Draco gave a mighty roar and turned into a spacious corridor. He dropped Harry on the floor and led the way, his wings tucked tightly on his back. “Are you okay?” Harry asked as he saw Draco’s body grinding against the corridor’s stone walls and ceiling.

“Fine,” Draco grunted. He continued to run across the corridor like an unstoppable force. The corridor opened up to a room where the Fat Lady’s portrait was located. Draco gave a mighty roar and Harry was suddenly surrounded by silver fire. He heard werewolves yipping in pain as they burned and tried to run away, but only met the mashing jaws of the Drogo. When the fire settled down Draco was standing in front of Harry, wiping his mouth and spitting out blood (not his) onto a pile of ash.

Draco turned to Harry and smiled, “Easy, no?”

“God,” Harry sighed. He walked past Draco and looked around. “Ron!” he called out.

Ron, Neville, and Blaise were leaning against the wall next to the portrait of the Fat Lady. They all looked exhausted, arms and faces filled with small cuts and scratches, but still relatively unharmed.

“Harry, there you are,” Ron said. “Hermione tried looking for you! Did you see—“

“She’s in the entrance hall,” Harry said. “She’s fine but she’s knocked out.”

“She’s okay?” Ron asked again, his face fill with worry.

“Yeah, she is,” Harry said.

“She took out a lot of werewolves and Death Eaters though, you should have seen it,” Draco chuckled. He looked at Blaise and demanded, “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Blaise said. “One minute everything was fine, then this explosion happened and Death Eaters started pouring in. I’ve made my way to the Gryffindor Tower as fast as I could and didn’t move since.”

“Is everyone okay in there?” Harry asked.

“Yes, everyone sixth year and younger are in there… except us of course,” Ron said. He turned to Neville and said, “The coast is clear. Go back in.”

“What? No, I can fight too,” Neville argued. Both Ron and Blaise gave him a sharp look. “No, you will go into there and protect everyone else,” Blaise said. “Ron and I can handle this.”

“But—“

“No arguing,” Ron said. “Please… for us,” he said softer.

“Fine,” Neville sighed. He got off the wall and took the few steps to the Fat Lady. The portrait opened up and Neville walked in, looking behind his shoulder as the portrait closed in front of him.

“Well, it looks like Gryffindor is safe,” Draco sighed. “Come on Harry, we should check the others—“

“What are you doing?” Ron asked.

“Dumbledore told us to check on each House, making sure everybody got to hiding safely,” Harry said.

“How can we help?” Blaise asked.

“Go check Ravenclaw,” Draco said. “Harry and I are going to look at Slytherin and whoever is done first will look into Hufflepuff. We’ll meet up at the entrance hall, that way we can get Hermione to safety. Got it?”

“Yes,” Blaise nodded.

“Alright—come on Harry!” Draco said as he turned. Harry nodded and said to Ron, “Good luck! You better not get hurt.”

“You too mate, see you in the entrance hall,” Ron smirked. He and Blaise ran down a different corridor as Harry followed Draco down the corridor they’ve just came from.

“So,” Harry huffed, “what do you think we’re going to see in the dungeons?”

“The whole lot of them cowering,” Draco said. They ran out of the corridor and Harry almost fell as Draco stopped immediately. “Look out!” He yelled. The castle shook. They felt dust fall on them and Harry looked up to see debris falling from the ceiling, slamming onto the stairs in front of the two, smashing the entire stairway and bringing it down with it. “Are you okay?” Draco asked Harry.

“Yeah… what caused that though?” Harry asked, looking around.

“I don’t know, but we better hurry and get to the dungeons… and find Voldemort and the other Death Eaters,” Draco said. Silver flames again surround Harry and once again Draco transformed into a Drogo. Harry slipped onto his place on Draco’s back and held on tight as they both dropped from the seventh floor landing. Before Harry knew it they were on the ground floor again and making their way to the dungeons.

“It’s too quiet,” Harry said as they’ve entered the dungeons. “I haven’t seen anyone around. No Death Eaters, werewolves… anybody. Not even the aurors, though I can hear them all around us.”

“They’re most likely fighting on the other floors,” Draco said. “Though it is odd. The dungeons are completely clean. It looks like the fight avoided the dungeon at all cost.”

“So that means that the Slytherins are all safe,” Harry said.

“Yeah,” Draco said. He looked around and frowned at the perfectly clean and whole walls that surrounded them. “Shh,” he held his hand up and Harry stopped. The sounds of footprints softly filled the corridor. Both boys immediately reached for their wands and waited. The footsteps slowly gotten louder and louder as whoever was walking came closer to closer to them; Harry’s grip on his wand tightened as shadows appeared on the corridor. And from the shadows came the figures of Crabbe and Goyle. “Come on! We have to get to the Dark Lord—Malfoy? What are you doing here?” Goyle said, shocked.

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” Draco yelled, Harry followed and Crabbe’s and Goyle’s wands flew out of their hands before they could fully pull them out of their pockets. “Where is the Dark Lord?” Draco asked simply, his wand pointed at Goyle.

“W-Why would we tell you?” Goyle asked, his beady eyes meeting Crabbe’s as the Drogo and his mate aimed their wands at them.

“We don’t have time for this Goyle,” Draco said. “Tell us where the Dark Lord is, or you two will end up exactly like Nott.”

“What?”

“Nott is dead Crabbe,” Draco said. “So unless you wish to die with him, tell us where the Dark Lord is.” He took a step closer to the two trolls. He flicked his wrist and small licks of silver flames appeared around them. “Well?” Draco asked.

Crabbe’s face paled, a cold sweat covering his forehead as he stuttered, “T-t-the—the—the Great Hall! H-h-he’s in the Great Hall!”

Draco smirked. “Thank you. _Stupefy!_ ”

Both Crabbe and Goyle fell to the floor, unconscious. Harry looked at Draco and sighed. “Are you ready Draco?”

“With you by my side, always,” Draco smiled. “Come on love, let’s finish this.”

Gathering their courage, both boys turned and began their way out of the dungeon and into the entrance hall. Harry looked at Hermione’s body and frowned. “We should move her somewhere more comfortable for when she wakes up,” he said to Draco.

“You’re right,” Draco nodded. He and Harry stood to either side of Hermione and lifted her up. They moved her away from the pile of unconscious bodies of Death Eaters towards one of the stone benches. Draco moved so that Hermione’s body was leaning more on Harry as he pointed his wand at the stone table and transfigured it into a comfortable, yet simple, bed. They both laid her on it and both cast a few simple protection charms. With their task done, they turned towards the doors to the Great Hall to find them shut tight.

Draco opened them and immediately had to jump out of the way as a wall of fire burst from the closed doors and into the entrance hall. Draco quickly gathered his footing and looked at Harry, who was standing next to him. “Come on,” Draco said.

They both moved into the Great Hall only to find a horror. Voldemort was sitting in Dumbledore’s chair, the staff table destroyed in front of him and three of the four House tables burning in a dark green fire (Slytherin’s was spared). The burning tables offered the only light source as in the air instead of the usual floating candles were bodies. Bodies of young and old all floating, their mouths opened in everlasting horror, some bodies twitching violently as others seemed to give up life all together. “Seamus! Dean!” Harry yelled as he recognized two of the bodies.

Voldemort just chuckled as Draco and Harry ran further into the hall. The doors slammed shut behind them and Harry turned to see Nagini slithering towards them from the back of the hall. She ignored Harry and Draco as she moved towards a body on the floor, Harry barely recognizing the Ravenclaw robe on the girl.

“Sixty,” Voldemort chuckled. Draco and Harry turned their attention towards him. “That is how many bodies are currently in the air. Students, aurors, and professors. I am sure you recognize the half-giant, both of you.” Voldemort pointed to the body floating directly above him.

“Hagrid!” Harry gasped at his friend. Voldemort moved his wrist and Hagrid’s body came crashing down in front of both of them, making a soft squishing sound as he lands. “Hagrid! No!” Harry yelled, shaking his friend.

“The oaf is dead, as are most of the occupants here,” Voldemort smirked. “It is such as shame their savior wasn’t here to protect them. Tell me, where exactly is the Diadem?”

“You mean your Horcrux?” Harry asked, his anger fueling him. “We destroyed it. We destroyed that and all of your other Horcruxes.”

“Oh? So Nott couldn’t stop you? Pity, he was such a foolish thing,” Voldemort said emotionlessly.

“So you don’t care… that boy was madly in love with you that he turned insane,” Harry said, confused at where his anger was coming from. “He loved you that much and still you don’t care that your lover died! That he’s gone!?”

“Why should I, Potter?” Voldemort smirked. “Love is useless, that boy meant nothing to me and he knew it. But enough of this, it is time for both of you to die. Goodbye Harry, Draco.”

The green flames shot up and fell on Draco and Harry. Harry saw a flash of silver and felt Draco’s warm body hug close to him as his wings folded around them both, shielding them. On the floor in front of him was the Locket, Voldemort's final Horcrux. The dragon gave Harry a reassuring smile before beating his wings, the green flames becoming dominated by Draco’s silver before all extinguishing into the air. Voldemort was still in his seat, but Harry saw movement. Nagini was only feet away from them. She had a straight shot towards Harry and before he could react, the giant snake shot into the air, leaping at him—only to coil in pain as Draco’s sharp teeth latched onto her. The snake tried to strike at Draco but every time she tried to bit him her fangs just scrapped his scales and her body began to burn. With a snap, Draco closed his jaws and the snake was ripped into three parts, her blood spraying everywhere as the front and back end of her body fell to the ground, withering and jumping around as it slowly died.

Voldemort finally stood, anger in his eyes. “You will pay for that, dragon,” he sneered.

“Finally, an emotion,” the Drogo smirked. “I have underestimated your strength the last time, Voldemort. But not today!” Draco opened his jaws and gave a roar that shook the foundation of the castle. The Great Hall tremor and shook as the bodies all fell to the ground. Harry had no time to see which of them were still alive as all of the bodies were pushed to the sides of the room. Silver fire separated the bodies from Draco, Harry, and Voldemort, the fire towering high to the ceiling and closing in. Draco gave another roar and the tops of the wall of silver fire closed in on each other, trapping the three occupants.

“What do you achieve by trapping us?” Voldemort smirked.

“Just making sure that you will not escape,” Draco said. He looked at Harry and whispered, “Distract him. I need him weakened.”

Harry nodded and took a step towards Voldemort, his wand held tightly in his hand. Voldemort simply smirked at him coldly. “You will find Harry, that I will not be killed by a stray Stunner this time,” he said.

“I’m not planning that, Tom,” Harry said. “ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

“ _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

Their spells collided and just like in the graveyard, started to fight for control. Golden plasma shot from the point where the spells met and Voldemort smirked as he jabbed his wand, the Killing Curse gaining ground from Harry’s spell. Harry gritted his teeth as his arm started to shake. Voldemort has become powerful, much more powerful than last year. Harry screamed as he flicked wand tried to push Voldemort’s spell back. He felt his mate behind him, controlling the fire that surrounded them. He felt a pressure on his shoulder and turned to see Draco’s mighty clawed paw on his shoulder. “Do it, Harry,” Draco growled. Harry felt an immense rush of power flow into his body from Draco. Harry gave a scream that sounded like a small dragon’s roar as he gave his spell a final jab. His stunner turned from a bright red to a shimmering silver and watched as it quickly overtook Voldemort’s Killing Curse, pushing the spell back until it reached the Dark Lord’s wand. Harry did not know what happened, there was a bright light from Voldemort’s wand, followed by the man’s scream of pain.

When the light subsided, Harry felt disheartened to see Voldemort was still standing, though his body sagged and it looked as if he was barely hanging onto his life. Harry had a feeling that if he was fighting the previous version of Voldemort, the Voldemort who died from a lucky hit from a Stunner, he would be dead. Draco did not give Voldemort any time to move as he roared. The enclosed area erupted with fire. All Harry could see, hear, or feel was the silver fire. His clothing quickly caught and burned away but his skin was unburned as the fire caressed him like a lover.

Voldemort, however, was not so lucky as the flames encircled him, digging into his skin and boiling his blood; the vessels bursting inside him, steam building up in his body. The pressure build inside of Voldemort as the flames burned his skin, melting and revealing ruined muscles. Voldemort’s lungs collapsed on itself as smoke filled it. It was slow, agonizing, but at the end, when Voldemort again no longer resembled a human being, the pressure inside his body was too much and he burst, his chest splitting in half, the silver fire quickly getting to the spilling guts and organs, turning them to ash.

Harry, unable to take hearing his enemy’s screaming, turned and found his way to the roaring Drogo. Hugging Draco, he waited for the silver fire to disappear, uncaring about his naked stature. When the flames finally went away, the Great Hall seemed almost unrecognizable. The bodies on either side were unharmed, as well as Hagrid’s surprisingly, but everywhere that was trapped in Draco’s flames from the four House Tables to the broken pieces of the staff table, and the Locket that Draco dropped as he transformed, as well as Voldemort’s body all burned down to a black, uniformed ash.

The Drogo looked at his work proudly and gave a victories roar, beating his wings against the stone floor, pushing the ash around him away. “We did it,” Harry said. “Draco, it’s over!”

Silver fire appeared one last time as Draco transformed back into his human form. “We did my love,” he said as he shrugged off his robe. “Although I hope that you would have kept your clothes on, kitten. Only I am allowed to see you naked.”

“Shut up knife-ears,” Harry blushed, surprised to find himself chuckling. He took Draco’s robe and wrapped it around himself as the doors opened again.

The next few hours was spent collecting their dead and capturing the rest of Voldemort’s army. Harry was saddened by Hagrid’s death, but couldn’t help but feel a little relief to see that none of his other friends have died. Even Seamus and Dean were alive, part of the only handful Voldemort kept alive floating in the air. Dumbledore conjured new tables for the Great Hall, the tables filled with students both injured and fine as Madam Pomfrey and the staff members moved around the hall looking after the injured. The dead has been respectfully moved outside the castle, lined row by row as their bodies basked in the moonlight under the clear sky. Family members could be seen standing and kneeling in front of loved ones, mourning.

Harry and Draco were in the corner of the Great Hall, alone in their own world. Something snapped between them and Harry’s cheeks started to flush, his mind growing foggy as a light sweat appeared on his face. “Draco,” he mewled.

“Harry,” Draco breathed. “Come on love… I think it’s time for something we’ve both wanted for a long time.”

“Please dominant,” Harry mewled again, his senses leaving him as lust and want for his dominant mate took over. They both stood and Draco led them away from the rest of the castle, towards the one place he knew they would be utterly alone and would finally be able to mate.


	19. In Which a Dragon Mates

Last Chapter

In Which A Dragon Mates

The two boys were hand in hand as the Slytherin led the Gryffindor out of the Great Hall. Harry had an idea that they would go to the Room of Requirement, but was surprised to see that they weren’t. Instead Draco had them turn towards the front doors on the other side of the entrance hall. They’ve went through and stepped into the courtyard drenched in moonlight. They both stayed quiet as Draco led the way, the two figures walking across the courtyard and onto the grounds. Harry looked to his left to see the dead and their mourners still laying in neat rows.

Draco led Harry towards the Black Lake, away from the dead and mourners. “Don’t speak Harry, just follow,” Draco whispered.

Harry just nodded and kept close to him. They walked along the edge of the lake towards the Forbidden Forest. When they’ve reached the edge of the forest Harry thought they would slow down, but instead Draco continued on, leading his submissive deep into the forest. Harry’s eyes roamed around, seeing trees that were still burnt from Draco’s fire. Though faint, he could have sworn he could smell a scent that reminded him of his boyfriend. They continued through the forest, moonlight slipping away and Harry quickly losing his sense of direction, trusting in Draco to lead him to where ever they were going. With each step Harry’s hormones seemed to increase, his cheeks reddening and cock slowly growing. He whined when his pants started to become too tight.

“Don’t worry my sweet submissive,” Draco chuckled deeply. “We are almost there my pet.” He led Harry to a clearing and Harry gasped. The clearing was lit with moonlight, the trees that encircled the clearing burned with Draco’s fire. The grass seemed soft to Harry, almost inviting. Draco led Harry to the middle of the clearing and smirked. Harry looked around and noticed that it was more than big enough for the Drogo to transform. “Strip,” Draco commanded.

Harry nodded and took a step away from Draco. He took Draco’s robes that he was wearing and slowly moved them off of his shoulders, revealing his sun-kissed skin inch by inch. His body was skinny, yet toned the faintest of muscles showing from his hairless body. His cock was pointing straight at Draco, six inches in length. Draco noted with approval that he had no pubic hair; Harry was completely hairless from chest to toes. Harry blushed when he saw his mate stare at him. “Shaving spells… Ron taught them to me,” he admitted.

“You look wonderful,” Draco whispered.

Harry smiled softly and let Draco’s robes fall to the ground. He stepped out of his shoes and socks and finally stood completely naked in front of Draco. Draco circled around Harry as if appraising him. He stopped behind Harry and placed both hands on his small ass. “Such a pretty hole Harry,” he whispered. “I can’t wait to see it loose and full with my cum. Do you want that Harry? A loose hole filled with my seed?” Harry moaned and nodded, pushing his ass deeper into Draco’s hand, silently begging Draco to start fingering him.

“Not yet Harry,” Draco chuckled. “I’m not finished yet.”

“Draco!” Harry whined.

“Easy kitten,” Draco said, giving Harry’s butt a light slap. “I need to make sure the rest of your body is up to point.” He circled around to Harry’s front and gave Harry a brief cocky smirk before going on his knees. “Let’s take a better look at this, Harry,” he said, his index finger flicking Harry’s cock.

Harry groaned, the head of his cock starting to leak pre-cum. Still using only his index finger, Draco swiped the small bead of pre-cum from the fat pink head of Harry’s cock and licked it. “Hmm… I think I’ll need a bigger taste Harry,” he said. “We need to make sure your cum is perfect to be from my submissive.”

Before Harry could respond Draco’s lips were on the head of Harry’s cock and Harry could only moan as he watch his cock disappear in Draco’s mouth, feeling a hotness as Draco’s tongue wrapped around the cock, massaging it. Harry’s hands moved towards Draco’s head, his fingers gripping Draco’s platinum blonde hair as the muscular dragon started to bob his head. “D-Draco,” he gasped, his voice high.

Draco hummed around Harry’s cock, his tongue working expertly around it; as he moved away from Harry’s body he thrust his tongue into Harry’s dick hole, licking and moving his tongue around as he stretched that hole. Harry could barely string words together, his cheeks flushed and mouth hung open as a low, constant moan came out. Draco continued to suck Harry, refusing to let his cock out of his mouth. Draco’s hands were holding Harry firmly on his ass, one hand per globe, and he squeezed them roughly whenever Harry tried to thrust against Draco. Harry whined at the lack of movement, a great need to go deeper into Draco’s mouth, to come in his mouth and just _move_ overtaking him. “D-Draco! I’m getting—“

Draco’s teeth scrapped against Harry’s cock and the pain and pressure pulled Harry over the edge. He screamed as he came in Draco’s mouth, rope after rope of hot cum landing on Draco’s tongue and gong down his throat. The Drogo swallowed every drip of cum from Harry, milking his cock till the last drop.  When Harry couldn’t cum anymore his body swayed, feeling weak from his orgasm. His cock slid out of Draco’s mouth and he fell into Draco’s huge muscular arms as the dragon chuckled.

“You taste excellent, my pet,” he said. “Your cum is fit enough to be my submissive. Did you like that Harry? Did you like how I controlled your cock and cum?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathed.

“Did you like cumming, Harry?” Draco continued.

“Yeah,” Harry moaned as he felt Draco’s hand stroking his flaccid cock hard again.

“Good,” he smirked. “Now go get my wand Harry.”

Harry nodded and moved his hand down Draco’s body, slipping against Draco’s trousers and into his pocket. Harry pulled Draco’s wand out and gave a moaning yelp as Draco gripped his cock hard, his cock now fully hard again. Draco took the wand in one hand and still holding Harry’s cock with his other he aimed his wand at Harry’s dick and muttered something. Harry felt like a stopper was inserted into his open dick hole and a tight ring on the base of his cock and balls. “That will be the final time you cum without my cum on you or in you Harry,” Draco said. “You’ll have to be a good kitten to earn it for the rest of the night. Understand?”

“Y-Yeah,” Harry said.

Draco chuckled and stood his full six foot four inches. Harry could only marvel at the powerful aura that seemed to radiate from his mate, staring at the perfect way his shirt mold around his muscles, and how his pants barely hid an obvious erection. “Harry love,” Draco purred, “what are you thinking?”

“Why am I the only one naked knife-ears?” Harry asked, looking up at his mate.

Draco gave a short laugh and said, “I don’t know, why don’t you fix that?”

“Gladly,” Harry smirked. He reached and slowly unbuttoned Draco’s shirt, revealing slowly revealing his perfect pecs, two hard pink nipples showing through Draco’s white shirt. Harry couldn’t help but bite his lip as he revealed more and more of Draco’s body. He wasn’t his slim self, but he didn’t have the body of a bodybuilder either. It was a perfect middle ground between the two and just the sight of it made Harry’s cock throb and hole pulsate. When he came to Draco’s abs a platinum blonde treasure trail slowly started to appear between Draco’s abs, leading down and becoming thicker as Harry reached the last button. Draco’s shirt fully unbuttoned, Harry licked his lips as he slowly pulled the shirt apart. Draco moved and helped Harry shrug the shirt off of his arms and stretched, into the air revealing platinum blonde armpit hair. Even though it wasn’t sexual, Harry couldn’t help but admit that the more of Draco’s body Harry sees, the more he just wanted to touch it, hug it, lick it. Anything really, just to have physical contact with Draco’s body.

Draco, now just standing in his trousers, the treasure trail tempting Harry to go further, dropped his shirt on his robe and slipped his shoes and socks off. “Almost done, kitten. Come on,” he said.

Harry shook his head and said, “Not yet dominate, I want to get to know your body better. Don’t I get to examine your body?” Harry had a playful smirk

Draco laughed and shook his head. “God Harry, I love you. Alright, examine my body. I can promise you you’ll find nothing less than perfect,” Draco said. He posed cockily and Harry shook his head.

Harry took a step closer to Draco and tried to keep a serious face as he stood in front of Draco and started to inspect Draco’s chest. His hands glided over Draco’s skin which seemed to shine in the moonlight and his fingers flicked over Draco’s nipples. He gave a smirk, a lewd idea coming to him, and he rested his face on Draco’s chest, mumbling, “I think I need to check to make sure they work correctly,” before he started licking Draco’s left nipple. Draco moaned lightly as Harry lapped at his nipple. Draco’s eyes slowly closed and smiled as he continued to moan, his hands roaming over Harry’s body. “Ahh!” he yelped as Harry bit his nipple lightly. “Damn Harry,” he breathed.

Harry rolled the nipple between his teeth lightly and gave it a final lick before looking up at Draco. “What? I like biting,” he said before going to the other nipple. Draco gave another moaning yelp as Harry did the same thing with his right nipple. Harry moved down Draco’s torso leaving bite marks and kisses everywhere he went. Draco tried to guide Harry along but every time his hands touched Harry’s head, the raven-haired slapped it away. When he reached Draco’s bellybutton, Harry bit roughly and thrust his tongue inside it, wetting Draco’s treasure trail. Draco’s voice hitched and Harry smirked; he found a sensitive spot. They didn’t know how long Harry spent messing with Draco’s bellybutton, licking and scrapping his teeth against Draco’s abs. But when Harry’s jaw started to ache he stood up and admire his handiwork: red teeth marks peppered Draco’s body, his saliva glistening against Draco’s muscles.

Barely hiding a smirk Harry said in a serious voice, “I think your front side is perfect for a Dominant.”

A snicker left both of their lips and Draco said, “Well, what about my arms?” He flexed them for emphasis and Harry lost it, both of them laughing and shaking their heads.

“They’re more than perfect,” Harry laughs. “And I’m sure your armpits are perfect too.”

“Of course they are,” Draco laughed. “Now I think you’ve had enough examining don’t you?”

Harry shook his head, “Nope,” he said trying to have a serious expression again. “I am a very needy sub, Draco, and I need to make sure that you can fulfill all my needs.”

“I see,” Draco mused. “That would be a problem… so how about you follow your Dominant’s orders and remove my pants?”

“Yes Dominant,” Harry said half seriously. They both chuckled as Harry knelt in front of Draco and reached for his pants. He unbuttoned the top and slowly zipped Draco’s fly down, his hard bulge falling out of the opening. “You’re eager,” Harry commented, earning himself a playful smirk from Draco. They were both grateful that Draco didn’t bother with a belt that day as Harry just pulled the pants down, revealing toned legs and silk boxers with a huge wet spot. Returning to the boxers, Harry licked his lips and kissed the wet spot, feeling pre-cum oozing onto his lips as they pushed through the wet fabric.

Harry wrapped his lips around the bulge, playing with as much as he can fit in his mouth, gagging slightly at the taste of the silk. With a cough he moved away and grimaced. “Never doing that again,” he muttered.

“Felt weird,” Draco commented. Harry nodded and slowly pulled Draco’s boxers down, revealing more of his treasure trail. The pubic hair expanded from the thin line into a patch of neatly trimmed hair just on top of Draco’s cock. It somehow seemed bigger than before Harry thought. Draco’s cock looked semi-hard, the fat purple head smeared with white pre-cum that leaked down the length of the eight inches and towards his ballsac which held two balls that looked around the size of small apples. Harry was again assaulted with a heavy musky smell that drove him wild. He looked up at Draco and smiled as he gave Draco’s cock a couple of squeezes. Holding the base of Draco’s cock, he licked the pre-cum clean, smiling to himself as he felt Draco shiver under his tongue. With the dick clean Harry gave another squeeze and slapped the head of it against his cheeks, loving the wet, heavy sound it made against his face.

Finally he kissed the head of it gently and opened his lips, hallowing his cheeks as he again took the cock in his mouth, the thick cock already stretching him. He knew he couldn’t take all of it in his mouth, and he wasn’t going to try, instead he just lowered his head onto Draco’s cock until he could barely breathe. Then he quickly came back up, breathed through his nose, his head growing light from Draco’s musk, and he began again.

Draco gave a low purr, his hands entwined in Harry’s hair; just holding him, allowing his love to work at a pace he can handle. Saliva quickly slicken Harry’s lips and started to come out of his mouth as he bobbed, making moaning gagging noises as he did so. His right hand moved in sync with his lips as they worked the rest of Draco’s cock. His left moved towards Draco’s balls and started massaging them, prodding them with his fingers and giving light squeezes and grazes. Draco felt like he was in heaven, his vision blurring around the edges as he looked down at Harry, watching the slim boy work his cock. He needed more and before long he had complete control, thrusting his hips as his hands kept Harry still. The forest was filled with the sound of Draco’s grunts and Harry’s gags.

Harry felt like he was going to choke a couple of times but soon gotten to breathing through his nose, taking a breath as Draco withdrew his cock and breathing out as Draco pushed in again. He knew that his lips were swollen as pre-cum and spit continued to dribble out of the corners of his mouth, lubricating Draco’s cock even more. With an unexpected roar Draco came deep in Harry’s mouth and the raven hair had to work quickly in swallowing every hot rope of thick cum. Draco pulled out slightly as he came, the cum shooting to the back of Harry’s throat and on his tongue. With the given space Harry relaxed slightly as he lapped for every drop of cum, quickly again growing addicted to Draco’s cock. When Draco seemed to finish cumming his cock was still rock hard as he pulled out, a line of cum still linking between Harry’s puffed lips and his cock.

“Beautiful,” Draco whispered as he lightly brushed his thumb across Harry’s lips. Harry opened his mouth slightly enough for his tongue to poke out and lick Draco’s thumb.

“Draco,” Harry breathed, “I need you in me.”

“I was just in you Harry,” Draco chuckled, amused at the swift mood change Harry had. He sounded like the needy submissive in heat.

“No not like that,” Harry said. “I need your cock inside me! Fucking my hole. I thought you were going to fill me with your seed.”

“I am, don’t be so hasty,” Draco said. He looked around and said, “Hands and knees Harry, on the clothes.”

Harry obeyed and got on his hands and knees in front of Draco, lifting his butt towards the Slytherin as he rested on his arms. Draco stepped towards his little mate and slapped his ass a couple of times. “Your butt is so small kitten, do you think it can fit me?” he smirked.

“I can fit anything in me, just stretch me,” Harry challenged Draco. Draco chuckled and stroked his cock. “You sure Harry? Cause tonight I’m sure you’re going to regret saying that.” He bent down to pick up his wand and aimed it at Harry’s hole.

“I’m sure you’re impatient tonight so I’ll just use a few spells Blaise taught me,” he said. With a couple of flicks of his wand, he watched as Harry’s hole opened up for him, cleaned fully, and become slick with lube. Harry gave a scream at the sudden stretching, his cock throbbing for release. “We should thank Blaise,” Draco smirked. “For the rest of the night you’re going to be self-lubricating Harry. But for now… it’s time for the main event.”

Dropping the wand, he knelt in front of Harry and aligned his cock with Harry’s hole. Even with the stretching spell, Harry was too tight for him. Harry groaned as he felt his ass stretching far past his limit. He felt Draco’s cock push deeper and deeper into him, his ass filling inch by inch as all nine inches of Draco’s cock buried itself inside him. When he felt Draco’s balls rub against the rim of his ass they both breathed deeply. “Give me a minute,” Harry breathed.

Draco nodded and they both stayed in that position, Draco holding groans as Harry’s ass squeezed against his cock, the hot lubricated hole seemingly trying to swallow more of him. When it felt comfortable, Harry nodded and said, “Go ahead… slowly.”

Draco pulled out agonizingly slow, taking his time as he pulled each inch out of Harry’s ass. Harry felt his ass tightening up as Draco withdrew his cock. Draco stopped only when it was the head of his cock inside Harry’s ass and again pushed slowly into his mate. Harry gave a moan as he was forced to open up for Draco, his ass muscles stretching way past their limit again. “This is only a taste of how full you’ll feel Harry,” Draco breathed. “My Drogo wants to fuck you senselessly, and I will not be gentle then.”

Harry moaned and pushed back against Draco, finding a masochistic side that he never knew he had. Draco continued to rock at the smoothly slow pace, using his cock to stretch Harry, having his mate just get used to having him inside, filling him up. Harry felt like all of his nerves suddenly became ultra-sensitive; his body practically melting into a mush of pleasure as his cock throbbed painfully. He could feel Draco inside his very pores, an intense heat slowly burning inside him. It felt like he was being reborn, all of his old cells burning away from Draco’s touch. He looked around and saw that small burst of silver fire appeared around them, coming in and out in key with Draco’s thrusts. Harry needed them closer, he needed to feel more of Draco, to be surrounded by his beloved. “Faster,” he cried out. “Draco! Fuck me!”

Draco didn’t respond, instead he just slowly began to increase his speed, his balls lightly slapping against Harry’s ass as he buried deeper and deeper into it. Soon before long Draco stopped making long thrusts and instead just kept buried in Harry’s hungry hole and rutted. The wet sound of his balls slapping Harry’s ass joined their moans in the forest. The moonlight shining down on them revealed their sweat-soaked bodies moving as one, Harry’s slim body completely covered by Draco’s as he laid on Harry’s back, thrusting against his ass as he pulled Harry’s face to his own. Their kiss was sloppy, Draco wanting more of Harry than he can reach. They continued this for what seemed like forever to Harry, his body in pure bliss, the silver fire around them now a constant ring that still flared with every grunt of Draco’s.

“You will cum,” Draco ordered, his voice dropping several octaves, becoming more animalistic, “only when I cum inside you.”

“Please,” Harry pleaded, “D-Draco cum in me!”

Draco continued his furious pace and Harry felt his body getting hotter and the flames getting closer. It was as if the silver fire around them was slowly entering his body, a few licks of flames caressing his scar. Harry groaned and screamed as it felt like the flames thrust into his scar; burning his entire body. His vision blurred, then became white as he felt something deep inside him change. At the same moment Draco gave one final thrust and roared Harry’s name, cumming deep inside him. Riding off the high of the white light and the feeling of Draco, Harry came as well; his cum shooting and staining the clothes beneath him. Both boys rode their euphoric, destructive climax together, Draco’s cum flooding Harry’s hole like an open floodgate as Harry painted Draco’s black robes white with his cum.

When they started to come down from their high Harry’s hole felt sticky, hot and satisfyingly full. Draco pulled out, his cock not even softening, and he admired his handiwork. Harry’s tight pink hole was loose, the rim pushed out and covered in cum. “God, I think I ever saw something so erotic,” Draco said. Harry looked over his shoulder and nodded. “That was… brilliant,” he breathed exhaustion over taking him.

“Glad it you loved it kitten,” Draco said, his voice still deep, “because it’s time for the Drogo to have a turn. And trust me after tonight you will never be the same again love.”

His mind still hazy with lust, Harry just moaned and spread his legs further. He felt Draco mount him and silver flames surrounded them. He pressure on his back increased immensely and he looked up to see the Drogo standing directly over him. It took Harry a moment to realize what the pressure on him was, and he gave a low purring noise as the dragon’s cock slid from his back, leaving a hot trail of pre-cum covering it. The tip of his cock pressed against Harry’s loosened ass and Harry’s voice hitched to a level so high no sound came out of it. It felt like his butt was burning as it was being pulled apart. If Draco’s normal cock was thick, this one was unbelievable as the Drogo pushed into him. And the farther he pushed, the thicker it became. The Drogo pushed past the deepest Draco has been in and tears fell from Harry’s eyes as it felt the Drogo’s cock was pushing into his stomach. The dragon finally stopped and Harry felt Draco’s scales brushing against his body. He could only whimper at the pain, he felt like his entire lower body was being split by the Drogo’s cock.

Then it started moving. The pain increased, Harry’s screaming hoarse and small compared to the loud pleasure growls from his Drogo. It felt like a heavy, hot blunt force was pushing his insides, prodding him deeply and moving his stomach around. Harry looked down and gasped when he saw the Drogo’s cock physically moving him. It hurt so much, tears slipping down his cheeks… but then the pain started to subside. His thrust started to feel alright, if not pleasurable. Harry was starting to like the feeling of the Drogo inside him and soon found himself moaning. The Drogo lowered his head and Harry moved his arms to hold Draco, kissing him. The dragon stick his long tongue and easily slipped it in Harry’s mouth, the two tongues twirling dancing as the Dragon quickened his pace. Harry started to feel very good, if not erotically brilliant the faster the Drogo fucked his ass and tongued his mouth. He found himself panting around Draco’s tongue, truly like an animal in heat. Encouraged by his submissive’s approval, the Drogo soon started a ferocious pace, his cock spreading Harry’s ass even more as Harry felt something grow on the base of it. He screamed around Draco’s tongue, letting himself fall into submissive depravity as he ached for the dragon.

Harry started chanting “More, More, More, More” and the dragon delivered as if his cock continued to grow in size and width. Soon Harry could think of nothing by the Drogo’s cock and how right it feels to have it inside him, and how much he wanted the dragon’s seed. “Please—Draco—give it to me!” he moaned.

The dragon chuckled and Harry suddenly felt the dragon’s sharp teeth around his neck, biting hard but never breaking his skin. “Relax Harry,” he heard Draco say. “Our instincts are guiding us.”

Harry relaxed and allowed the Drogo to take full control of his body. He felt his neck slowly getting hotter and knew what was coming, but he wasn’t afraid, in fact he was completely stimulated from the heat, his body withering around the Drogo’s cock, his own cock pulsing uselessly from the need for release. “Whose are you?” Draco asked.

“Yours,” Harry screamed. And as he screamed Draco’s silver flames erupted from his mouth and covered Harry’s neck and though Harry’s neck did not burn, instead a permanent mark appeared like a chocker completely surrounding Harry’s neck. Harry screamed in an indescribable ecstasy and came for the third time that night as the Drogo filled his body with his seed. He felt his stomach expand and watched in odd fascination as a bump appeared and grew as cum continued to flood his body. He felt the hot stickiness ooze out of his hole and down his legs, covering them in Draco’s scent. It was like he was being drowned in the Drogo’s cum, and in that strange haze of sexual gratification Harry couldn’t help but love it. The Drogo pulled out, cum still gushing from his cock and covered Harry’s back and hair. He felt the dragon push the side of his body with his cock and rolled onto his back and opened his mouth as Draco continued to come, covering his body and getting into his mouth. Harry was surprised that Draco never seemed to stop cumming, and never did he! Even as the Drogo thrust his hot red cock into his body again, cum continued to leak out of Harry’s cock as the dragon fucked the gushing cum deep inside of him.

When they were both finally done cumming, Harry looked down at his body to see that most of his body was covered in Draco’s cum, his cock and balls soaked by the hot liquid. He smiled and tried to finger the seed, lazily lapping it into his mouth as Draco transformed again, standing in front of him with a flaccid cock. They both just smiled at each other as Draco bent down, his body still covered by Harry’s bite marks. He leaned down and gave a long lick across Harry’s body, his tongue gathering as much cum as he could and swallowed it. He did it again, and this time moved to Harry and kissed him openly, thrusting his cum-carrying tongue into Harry’s mouth, feeding it to him. They’ve continued this process until Harry’s torso was mostly clean. Draco moved down and cleaned Harry’s flaccid cock as it tried to get hard but couldn’t. He then helped Harry lift his legs so he could look into Harry’s hole. He just smiled at the loose cum-filled hole. They both knew that it will never again return to its original tightness, or even its original shape. He smiled at Harry and said, “I think there’s enough cum in you to get pregnant kitten.”

“Shut up knife-ears,” Harry breathed, not wanting to even think about pregnancy at such a time. Draco chuckled to himself and shook his head. He moved to lay down next to Harry and gently stroked the silver mark that appeared on Harry’s neck. “I told you you’ll change forever love,” he whispered. “This mark here will show the entire world that you are a Drogo’s mate. And look at this,” he pointed to his own neck where somehow a similar mark appeared, though lighter than Harry’s. “This will show the entire world that I am yours. I love you Harry Potter, I really do.”

“Love you too Draco Malfoy,” Harry whispered. They both shared a smile and Draco lightly took Harry’s glasses off, putting them to the side on top of his shirt as they both laid on his cum-stained robes. And there, in the moonlit clearing the Drogo and his mate fell asleep, both of them satisfied for their completed mating and looking forward for the rest of their lives together.


End file.
